


lately all i want is you on top of me

by verseau



Series: you know where your hands should be [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Kim Jongin | Kai, Dirty Talk, M/M, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verseau/pseuds/verseau
Summary: The second Jongin realizes what he has done, he panics. Nothing about this is redeemable. He’s not even—he doesn’t think about men like that, and definitely not enough to have accidentally sent a picture of his ass to his straight sunbae. / Jongin is repressed, but his libido isn't.





	1. baby, what you tryna say

**Author's Note:**

> this should not be this long, i am so sorry. [tumblr](https://1288z.tumblr.com/) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/lonelydemands) / [songs i listened to while writing](https://open.spotify.com/user/froceans/playlist/0ivAb3QXarBuuzN0NWMuUM?si=-tLGEqA9Rf-h6fPgKssAZA)
> 
> happy new year!

The second Jongin realizes what he has done, he panics. Nothing about this is redeemable. He’s not even—he doesn’t think about men like that, and definitely not enough to have accidentally sent a picture of his ass to his also straight sunbae. He doesn’t even know why he still has his number saved; they worked on a group project together a year ago in that terrible sociology course Jongin is sure they both regret, and nothing since. They have a few interlacing friends, are barely acquaintances. Sometimes a nod of acknowledgement or greeting, but little else. And Jongin just sent him a picture of his ass.

Or, his lower body, he can justify this—it’s sideways just from his waist down, standard gym mirror pic, because he and Junmyeon are building muscle, and even though Junmyeon does better with torso and upper, Jongin aces at leg day. His butt and thighs are so firm now, with muscle instead of barebones. He wanted to brag. It’s just—he typed sunbae, chose Kyungsoo sunbae instead of Junmyeon sunbae, and sent to someone else, it is suggestive. Oh, God, he will die. 

What if Kyungsoo thinks he’s hitting on him? He stares at the text thread with horror. Part of him wants to send a thousand apologies, but that means acknowledging it with further proof. _Maybe_ , he thinks, an absolute idiot, _the picture didn’t go through_. 

Then he gets a message, a line of grey sliding in as he stares in panic. 

_Oh, wow. That’s incredible._

Sirens blare in Jongin’s head. _is this Kyungsoo sunbae?_

_Yes. This is Jongin, yeah?_

_well yes but that pic was an accident i didnt mean it im sry_  
_i wasnt trying to start anything im not rly into guys_

_It’s okay_  
_Don’t think I’m into men either and yet_

Jongin is confused. That’s not a full sentence, is it? 

_???_

_And yet I still wanna eat you out_

Jongin’s eyes widen. What? What? Literally what is he saying—

_uh_

_Please tell me if I make you uncomfortable, but even a straight man can admit that you are objectively attractive._  
_And this picture goes a bit beyond that_  
_You’re not missing leg day, huh?_

Jongin shifts. It is Saturday night, he lies in bed, and before he screwed up, he was watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. There is no reason for this awkward twist to his gut. Does it make him uncomfortable? Maybe not in a way he wants.

_junmyeon hyung and i work out_

_You’re doing so good, your ass looks perfect_  
_Have you ever been eaten out?_

Jongin can admit to himself that compliments are nice. He’s doing good, Kyungsoo says. The rest of it is… a lot. Inexplicably, perhaps because of the adrenaline, his dick swells. He shifts again and pulls the comforter up over his head. If he ignores his dick, it will go down. 

How can he reply to Kyungsoo? After too much deliberation, he settles on, _thank you sunbae_ and hits send with bated breath. 

_You’re very polite, Jongin_  
_But you didn’t answer my question_

The sirens blare louder. He will die. _You can end the conversation whenever, he gave you an out_ , some stupid nest of his brain reminds him. Jongin cannot just end the conversation, that, it—that’s rude. 

_no I havent_

_Have you ever eaten anyone out?_

_um only girls but not_  
_not like their butts, just normal_

_Normal is relative, I think_  
_Girls love being rimmed, but I hear it’s more sensitive for guys_  
_I’d love to test that theory out with you_

Jongin flushes, face so hot it must be beet-red. Yet there’s still so much blood flowing down, and his—his dick hurts, he’s so hard. How is he so hard from this? Maybe just the casual discussion of sex, how blunt Kyungsoo is. Maybe it just feels good being wanted. He trails his hand down to his crotch, cupping his cock, hisses at the brief contact between his thin boxers. It’s just the adrenaline, the rush of panic and embarrassment from the accidental message. It makes sense that his body is wired. 

_oh_

_Will you let me?_

Jongin—how can he answer? Is it rude if he says no? Why doesn’t—the thought of saying no makes something wrong settle in his throat. 

_i_  
_i dont know_  
_what is it like_

_I can’t say personally, but I’m told it’s a necessary experience, especially for someone with an ass as pretty as yours_  
_Can I send you a visual?_

Pretty, Kyungsoo says. Jongin presses down on his cock. This conversation is out of control. How can he say no?

_ok_

Kyungsoo takes a moment to reply, and Jongin worries that maybe “ok” was the wrong answer; Kyungsoo was so nice before, but what if this is an elaborate joke, what if this is one of his friends, what if—but then he gets a message. All it is is a link, but when Jongin clicks it, it opens to a tweet with a video. It’s—a very graphic and very not-safe-for-work video; two men, a close shot of someone’s ass, hands gripping the tight flesh of it apart, close cropped black hair wet on the, the top’s forehead as he licks his tongue into the other man’s asshole, getting it wet and open. It looks… Jongin can’t breathe. The noises the bottom makes are mesmerizing, these hitched little moans, long exhales of breath, like it feels so good his lungs might give out, the way he pushes his ass back onto that broad, pink tongue, the way he arches and tightens when the tongue starts fucking in—it cuts off. 

Somehow, in the midst of total enrapture, Jongin started jerking himself off, hand just under his boxers as he fucks his hand, hips almost senseless. He feels senseless. He feels out of body, he’s never been this turned on before. 

_Do you like it?_

_yes_ , Jongin answers immediately. _yes_

_Make it even better for you than that_  
_Will you let me?_

_please_

_Fuck you make me so hard_  
_Is it okay if I send you a picture of myself? To show you?_

To show you. Jongin knows what he means, that this will cross into something dirtier, something Jongin cannot brush off in the morning. Maybe he already reached that line. He likes that Kyungsoo asks permission, but the necessity of an answer is nerve-wracking. 

_ok_

_Are you sure?_

Jongin scowls. _are u teasing me_

_Only a little_ , Kyungsoo replies. In just a minute, a picture sets into the message thread, and for several minutes, Jongin cannot breathe. Of course Jongin’s seen someone else’s dick before, but never hard, never sexualized, and he was never turned on by locker room nudity, let alone so turned on that his cock leaks precome and he has to grip it tight to stave off orgasm. What the fuck, he thinks, what the fuck. Kyungsoo is also lying down in bed, boxer-briefs pushed down just under his balls, full and heavy, his cock big as it rests on his stomach with his palm curled over it. Jongin did this. Just an accidental picture of his bum, and he made Kyungsoo this hard. 

_oh wow_  
_fuvk_  
_*fuck_

_Can’t stop thinking about eating you out, want it so badly_  
_Grab your ass and pull you in, like in the video_

_snube_ , Jongin typos, hand frantic on his cock, _sunbae please i._

_Are you touching yourself?_

_yes yes i dont know how im idk im hard imsorry_

_Don’t be sorry, Jongin_  
_Wish that I was the only making you come from my tongue inside you, getting your hole wet_  
_Gonna fuck you like that until you come_

_oh goddddc_

Jongin does come, gasping loudly and arching off the bed as he releases into his hand, far too much come just from masturbating. He wonders how much Kyungsoo comes, bets it’s a lot, God, he wants to eat Jongin out, Jongin has to turn his face into his pillow to muffle his noises, the easy way he sobs around the pleasure. 

When he recovers enough to brace a look at his phone, there is only one message from Kyungsoo. 

_Did you come?_

_mmm. did u_ , Jongin replies, endorphins floating around his body. 

_Almost, wish I had another picture of your ass to get me there_

Because Jongin is still hazy from orgasm, pliant and sleepy, he turns into his side, angles his phone, and snaps the best image he can of his ass before sending it to Kyungsoo without a second thought. 

_Fuck fuck fuck_  
_Baby_

-

_Okay_ , Jongin thinks when he wakes up from his post-orgasm nap. _I fucked up_. 

This, he can’t justify. When he grits his teeth, still hidden under the comforter, and checks his messages, all Kyungsoo sent is _Was that okay?_ and _I’m sorry if I was pushy, I didn’t mean to be_. The worst part is that Kyungsoo wasn’t, not really, Jongin was hard from just the slightest bit of attention, God, shit, fuck. Fuck. 

The picture Kyungsoo sent him is still there, and Jongin thinks he’ll die if he acknowledges it, but not a worse death than the grainy picture he sent Kyungsoo from, like, no prompting. At least he knows his angles. He hates that his ass apparently has an angle now. 

He wants to text Junmyeon or Sehun, like he does for all of his worst moments, but how will he talk this one out? I sent Do Kyungsoo pictures of my ass and came from messages about him eating me out? Ugh. He can’t have some sort of gay crisis on a Saturday. 

Well, it’s not like he makes a habit of this. Sometimes arousal clouds the mind, and Jongin likes compliments, he likes acknowledgment for his effort. Dirty talk is dirty regardless of gender, and it’s not like he, like, was begging for dick or anything. Kyungsoo only ever dates girls, too, so Jongin is sure that it was just a moment of hazy regret for both of them. 

He tells himself this, but still doesn’t delete the conversation or the pictures. 

-

Jongin is so conscious of his body now. Whenever he does squats with Junmyeon, all that plays in his mind is _you’re doing so good, your ass looks perfect_ , like some stupid audio loop of eternal embarrassment. 

“You’re distracted,” Junmyeon says a few days later, jolting Jongin back to their campus gym and where he stands staring into space with weights in his hands. “You alright?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jongin says, shaking his head to clear it. “Just a busy week, I guess.”

“You spent all of last night letting Sehun throw M&M’s into your mouth,” Junmyeon reminds him. 

“My mind is just always leaps and bounds ahead of yours, loser.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “Well, you know you can always talk to me, right?”

“Sunbae, we’re talking right now,” Jongin says, just to be an asshole, but he laughs when Junmyeon pushes his head to the side with a cursed insult. 

Jongin tries not to appear out of it, but Junmyeon knows him enough to know when silence is best. Whatever, whatever, he will get over this in a day or two. Jongin is an adult, and he will repress his experiences like one. 

Or he would, if Chanyeol didn’t live to spite him. Just two days later, when Jongin is back at the gym with Junmyeon and waiting for Chanyeol to join them, he hears, “I brought Kyungsoo along with me, hope that’s fine!” and freezes mid-pushup. 

“‘Course it’s fine, idiot,” Junmyeon says. “Kyungsoo and I are basically best friends.”

“Is that so,” an amused, honey-warm voice says, and Jongin stops breathing. No. Fuck. This can’t be happening. 

“You like me best,” Junmyeon confirms, laughing when Chanyeol whines in disagreement. 

“It’s just choosing between two equal evils,” Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin forces himself to resume his pushups, ignores the anxious twist in his chest. Tries to. 

“Jongin-ah, don’t be rude, say hi,” Chanyeol says, kicking Jongin in the side like that’s an appropriate greeting. 

“Fuck you,” Jongin says, sitting up and glaring up at Chanyeol. He avoids Kyungsoo. “Why kick me there, shithead, you know I get sore!”

“Yah, language,” Chanyeol says. “You’re the worst hoobae ever.”

“Eat my—“ Jongin starts to say, but his ears get hot and he fumbles out a weak, “shut up,” instead. 

Junmyeon, because he’s the worst best friend in the world, nudges Jongin’s side, too. “So you’re not gonna say hi to my best friend, Kyungsoo?”

“‘S not like it’s the first time we’re meeting,” Jongin mumbles, looking down at his lap. 

Junmyeon extends his arm to help Jongin up. Jongin takes it, braces his palm on the floor to balance up. “This is why he replaced you two minutes ago.”

“Ha ha,” Jongin deadpans. He swallows. “Hi, Kyungsoo sunbae.”

“Hi, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says quietly. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Jongin clears his throat. To Junmyeon and Chanyeol, he raises his voice and demands, “so are we gonna work out or stare at each other for two hours?”

“But you’re so great to stare at,” Chanyeol jokes, batting his lashes at Jongin. 

Kyungsoo laughs, and Junmyeon shoves Chanyeol’s shoulder. “You’re the reason people think gays only think about sex,” he says. 

“No, that’s homophobia,” Chanyeol replies. “Like you and Sehun aren’t the worst.”

“It’s different because we’re attractive,” Junmyeon argues. He wraps his arm around Chanyeol’s waist. “Right, Jonginnie?”

Jongin shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, don’t ask me.”

“Don’t straight guy us!” Junmyeon is so loud. “Beauty can exist regardless of gender.”

“You’re all ugly,” Jongin says. He stares at his shoes. He wishes his Nikes really did fly. He wants to be miles away from this moment. 

“Definitely less ugly than Chanyeol, hyung,” Kyungsoo offers.

Junmyeon high-fives Kyungsoo. “See, Nini, Kyungsoo’s straight and he can still admit basic truths.”

“I mean, you’re still ugly,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “But relative to Chanyeol…”

“Don’t call me Nini,” Jongin snaps, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. He fails. 

“But you’re our baby,” Chanyeol says. He leans in to poke Jongin’s cheek, but Jongin shoves his hand away. 

“Seriously, stop.” God, not in front of Kyungsoo, not when he called Jongin _baby_ when he came, not something as diminutive as Nini. 

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “What’s your issue today?”

“You guys are just fucking annoying,” Jongin grumbles. “Find me when you’re serious.” He stomps—walks away to the treadmills. He’s gonna run until he passes out. 

-

It’s fucked that he almost does pass out, a long hour running too fast at the highest incline without water until someone stops the track and he almost trips, heaving, out of breath. 

“Hey, hey, don’t kill yourself,” says Junmyeon, pushing a water bottle into his hand. “Come on, you only drank a smoothie for breakfast, you know better.” 

Jongin chugs the water bottle, gasping around the tightness in his lungs. He lowers his head. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, I know. Jongin, seriously, are you okay?”

Jongin shrugs. “Thanks for the water, Myeonnie hyung.”

Junmyeon furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah, of course. Class in an hour. You wanna take a break or do a few sets with Chanyeol and I?”

Jongin steps off the treadmill. “Think I’ll shower.”

The showers are bare. He takes his time, head tilted up up under the hot spray of water until his heart stops racing. His dick swelled to half the moment he saw Kyungsoo, even though he avoided direct contact, but damned if he acknowledges it. Instead he wraps a towel around his waist, sighs, walks to his rented locker and pulls out his duffel. 

All he has on are boxer-briefs when he hears, “Jongin,” low and too close. Jongin jumps seventy feet in the air, clutching his t-shirt to his chest when he turns around to stare at Kyungsoo with wide eyes, back against the cold metal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” When Jongin says nothing, eyes big and mouth parted, Kyungsoo continues, “can we talk?”

Jongin should say no, point blank, put the rest of his clothes on and leave. 

He doesn’t. “Not here.” He steps around Kyungsoo and walks back to the empty showers, pulling open a curtain in the farthest corner and waiting for Kyungsoo to step and shut it behind him. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, Kyungsoo sunbae.” He stares at a tile beside Kyungsoo’s shoulders. 

“You’re the one who moved us this far out of the way,” Kyungsoo points out. “Jongin, was it—“ He hesitates. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—my intent doesn’t matter, how you feel about it matters, I’m sorry that I was pushy.”

Jongin bites his bottom lip. “You weren’t.”

“I wasn’t what? I am sorry, I’m not lying about that,” Kyungsoo says. He sounds hurt? How can he sound hurt, does it not freak him out, what they did?

“You weren’t pushy, sunbae,” Jongin corrects. “You were clear and checked if I was okay with things several times.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, “so what’s…”

“Does it not freak you out?” Jongin blurts out, chancing a glance to Kyungsoo’s face. “You say you’re straight, and I know, I know I am, but it’s like I’m the only one dealing with this. How can you act so normal?”

Kyungsoo steps closer. Jongin wills himself not to step back. He’s not a coward. “Admittedly, I was a little tipsy. Not impaired, but that’s why I was bolder than usual. I know what I wanted.”

“Well, I don’t get what you wanted,” Jongin says, frustrated. 

Kyungsoo steps even closer. He extends his hand out to brush, so light, over Jongin’s side, where Chanyeol kicked earlier. “I meant what I said that night.”

_You’re doing so good, your ass looks perfect._ _Can’t stop thinking about eating you out, want it so badly_. Jongin swallows. “You said a lot.”

“And I meant all of it. Did you like it?” 

“I—“ he blushes. “I came, I guess. There was a lot of stimulation.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, “did you like it?”

Jongin shifts weight. “It’s weird!” He closes his eyes, reconsiders his words, opens them. “I sound like a homophobic prick. It’s not weird en masse, just for me, in that moment.”

“Did you like it?” Kyungsoo repeats. He extends his hand again, tilts Jongin’s chin until Jongin looks him in the eyes. Jongin’s breath hitches.

“Yes,” he whispers. 

Kyungsoo curbed his hand ok Jongin’s jaw, stepping in close enough that their bodies all but collide, touching in a few awkward places. Jongin’s body sings. He remembers, now, that he is in nothing but briefs. “Is it bad to feel good? Must we label and dissect that?”

“I’m an arts student, I dissect everything,” says Jongin. His real reply is the slight angle to his jaw, how he curves into Kyungsoo’s touch. “I don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, how do you feel about me texting you again tonight?” Kyungsoo asks. “Telling you more about what I wanna do to you. Okay or not? It is okay with me if not.”

Jongin will die. Still. He nods. 

Kyungsoo steps away, points of contact lost. “Tonight, then,” and leaves.

-

Jongin is on edge all day. He zones in and out of his classes, stares at his phone on the walk home, curls up on his bed to stare at it. He has an essay to write, but all he can think about is Kyungsoo saying _tonight, then_ like some given promise. God, Jongin is so turned on just from those two words that he jerks off in the wait, biting his bottom lip and reading back the old messages with Kyungsoo, the dirty video, the, the, fuck, picture of Kyungsoo, that hard just from a picture from Jongin. 

When the message comes, Jongin is lax, less tense than he was all day. _Hi, Jongin. How was your day?_

_hi sunnze_  
_*sunbae, sorry. it was fine how was urs_

_Great since I got to start it w you in those tights_ , Kyungsoo answers. Jongin wears gym leggings, yes, because they’re comfortable and work with any exercise. He tucks, of course, so it’s not like his dick is ever out and lewd. He never considered what it might still reveal. 

_they’re just leggings_

_They’re what you wore in that first pic and you saw how I reacted then_  
_You on the treadmill made my week_

_what abt it_

_Your ass, baby. The way it moved… couldn’t get anything done_  
_Just wanted to grab it, see if it feels as good as it looks_

Jongin squirms. _why didn’t u_

_You’d like that?_  
_If all I did was grope and squeezeyour ass, maybe slap it a little to see it bounce?_

_kyubgsoo sunbae_

_Yes baby?_

Jongin bites his bottom lip. please

_Please what?_

_don’t tease_

_Hm, well, you weren’t very nice today. Should you make demands after being that bad?_

_all i could hitnk about was u_

_What were you thinking about_

_the video you sent_

_Yeah? what’d you like about it?_

How can he phrase this? God, what is he even doing, how can he ever look Kyungsoo in the eyes again? 

_how_  
_how lloose it got_

_What’s it, Jongin_

_sunbae i cant say it_

_If you can’t say it, you can’t get it_

Jongin takes a deep breath. _how loose his hole got_

_Good._ Jongin relents and grabs his cock, rubs the wet fabric over his slit.  
_I loved that too but i liked the noises he made most_  
_bet you get loud huh_

_not rly_ , Jongin doesn’t think. Someone in high school told him girls don’t like that, and he internalized it like an idiot.

_Oh, I’ll make you loud_  
_You ever play with your ass?_

_jsoo_

_Words, Jongin_

_Just. barely_

_Define barely._

_ah god_  
_just rubbed over it before to see how it feels_

_Shit_  
_Goddammit_  
_How’s it feel_

_embarrassing_

_Bc of how much it turned you on?_

Has Jongin ever been this honest about sex in his life? What is it about Kyungsoo that enables him like this? 

_it was rly sensitive more than i exoectrd_  
_*expected_

_I bet it’s so easy to get you off just from playing with your hole_

_I fomt...dont know_

_Should we try?_  
_Take your pants and boxers off, if that’s ok_  
_Do you have lube?_

Jongin shimmies his boxers off and leans over to grab his bottle of lube from underneath his bed. Is he really going to do this? He doesn’t know what these questions lead to, he doesn’t want to think so much about this. After, he will deal with regret and whatever shame there might be. Right now, Kyungsoo texts him filth and turns him on so much he can’t imagine doing anything other than this. 

_ok sunbae ready_

_Can I call you? It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with that, no pressure_

Jongin twists his mouth to the side and back. He’s hard. Kyungsoo does have a nice voice. And he’s hard. 

_iprob won’t talk much_

_That’s ok with me if it’s ok with you_ , Kyungsoo replies. Jongin texts _ok_.

Kyungsoo calls less than a minute later, end Jongin answers from the first ring, then curses himself internally at how needy he must look. “Hi, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Kyungsoo sunbae,” Jongin breathes. God, his voice is too high. He clears his throat and hopes Kyungsoo didn’t notice. “Hello. What are you up to?”

Kyungsoo sounds amused when he answers, “did you ask that because you already know the answer?”

“No, really, I don’t know,” Jongin protests, “I’m really asking!”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, that same amusement coloring his deep voice, “I haven’t been able to keep my hands off my dick since last Saturday.”

“Last Saturday?” Jongin asks, but—“oh.”

“So that’s what I’m up to,” Kyungsoo says. “I love the grainy picture you sent most, I get hard whenever I even think about it.” He pauses. “And I think about it a lot.”

“That’s,” Jongin starts, “that’s gotta be uncomfortable.”

“There are a few hardships I’d bear for someone as pretty as you.” 

Jongin rubs his palm over his stomach, follows it down to his waist, right next to his dick. He shaves down there, his crotch and butt, just because he prefers the feeling, but all he’s thought about the past few days, try as hard as he may, is what that looks like to someone else, to Kyungsoo. Would that be pretty? “That’s the second or third time you’ve said pretty.”

“You are. You’re the prettiest person I know.”

“Boys aren’t usually pretty,” Jongin says, just to have something to say. He doesn’t think he buys that. 

Kyungsoo huffs out a laugh. “Do you believe that?”

“No,” Jongin admits. “Just… never thought of myself this way. I get, like, sexy more.”

“You are sexy,” Kyungsoo says immediately, “and pretty, too. And beautiful and handsome—“

“Sunbae,” Jongin laughs, mouth curling into a big smile, all the way up to his cheekbones.

“You have a great laugh,” Kyungsoo says, voice so soft. 

When Jongin’s laugh dies down, the silence feels so heavy. Jongin exhales. Getting all these compliments is overwhelming. “You have a great voice.”

“Thank you, Jongin.” How can anyone sound so sincere and then add, “can I make you come with it?” Suddenly, Jongin’s mind flashes to an image he never needed, Kyungsoo stretched out above him, holding one knee up, his, fuck, fingers rubbing over Jongin’s hole, pressing inside—

“It?” Jongin asks, still caught in that terrible image. 

“My voice.” He hears shifting on the other line, like the rustle of cotton sheets. “What did you think I mean? What else might I make you come with?” Jongin can’t breathe. “My fingers?” Kyungsoo’s voice lowers. “My cock?”

“I,” Jongin starts. “Nothing, I just got distracted.”

“Which was it?” The demand in his voice makes Jongin’s dick throb, makes him want to answer any and all questions Kyungsoo gives. 

He clears his throat again. “Fingers.”

Kyungsoo exhales. “Jongin, I want that so much. Will you touch your hole for me?”

“My hole?” he repeats. Saying it feels dirty. He cups his cock and bites his lips too hard. 

“Yeah, baby. Do you have your lube out?” Jongin does, and confirms. “Good, let’s get some on your fingers. You know I’ll make sure you’re more than wet enough.”

Jongin puts the phone on low speaker right next to his ear and does as Kyungsoo says, gets too much lube on his fingers and waits for instruction. 

“Get it on the skin right below your balls, and then your hole,” Kyungsoo says. His voice is so muted, so sure of obedience. Jongin listens, trails his lubed hand down with bated breath, and—

“Ah,” he gasps, jolting in surprise. He rubs his index and ring finger in a line over his hole, the slide so easy with this much slick, and can’t, has it, has it always been… was it always this sensitive, this hot and wanting? “Ah, oh, sun—sunbae,” he says, turning his face into the pillow. His ear lands above his cellphone, and Kyungsoo seems closer like this, Jongin makes out a low slick sound, like Kyungsoo is jerking off, the heavy sound of his breaths. 

His voice is gruff when he says, “rub it in circles.”

Jongin listens. How can, fuck, how can anything feel this good, why did he never pay more attention to that. “Oh,” he moans, “oh, sunbae, it feels so good, please,” it’s almost too much. He’s so sensitive here that just the pleasure has stars bursting across his skin, like he’ll lose his mind if he does and doesn’t stop. 

“Let me see,” Kyungsoo demands, or maybe Jongin hears it as a demand, wants to, “send a picture for sunbae to see how good your little hole looks being played with.”

Jongin never considers not listening. “Okay,” he agrees easily, and tries to slow down the motions so he can use his free hand to grab his phone and open it up to the camera. He angles his hand down, biting his lip as he snaps the picture of his hole, how wet it’s getting from his fingers. He barely looks at it before texting it to Kyungsoo. “Sent it, sunbae.”

Hearing Kyungsoo is ten times better than any text message could be. “Oh my fucking God,” he curses into the phone, “oh my God, Jongin,” and Jongin’s entire body feels hot. 

“Is that good?” Jongi asks, the phone back on the pillow under his ear, and he uses his free hand to palm at his cock, hopelessly turned on by the groan Kyungsoo lets out, the wet sound of Kyungsoo’s hand on his dick, the knowledge that somewhere, right now, Kyungsoo is staring at that picture and getting off. 

“Is it _good_?” Kyungsoo repeats with disbelief. “Jongin, this is—this is perfect, you’re so hot, God, I can’t believe… God, I wish I could—” he cuts himself off. No, finish it, Jongin wants to say, what do you wish you could do, but then Kyungsoo asks him, “baby, how do you feel?”

Jongin lets go of his dick to grip his thigh, holds it a little further apart so he can stroke himself again down there, still shocked at the sensation, the way the tight pucker of skin clenches and tries to suck his finger in. “Great,” Jongin tells him. “Incredible.”

“How do you feel about putting a finger, uh, inside?” Jongin stops breathing. “Tell me no if it’s no or if you’re unsure, we can just stay with this or stop if I’ve made you un—”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin interrupts. He clears his throat. “No, that’s… I can… try? That? If you want?”

“It’s what you want,” Kyungsoo insists. 

“I need,” Jongin starts. His voice is unsteady. “I need you to say that’s what you want.”

“I do want it,” Kyungsoo says, voice so patient and soft. 

“Okay. Okay, I just… more lube, I need more lube,” he mumbles, reaching behind himself to grab it, putting more on his fingers. His heart is beating so loud in his chest he wonders, delirious, if it might fly out away from him. “Okay, I’m gonna, gonna,” doesn’t bother to finish his sentence as he presses his middle finger on himself, down until the tip presses in. Oh, that’s weird. 

“How does it feel?” asks Kyungsoo.

“Uh,” Jongin presses more in, keeps going until his finger is down to the knuckle and the pad of it rubs inside him. He never thought he would be this grateful that he keeps his nails cut short. “I don’t know?” He doesn’t, caught between the base touch down there, how sensitive he is, and the weird intrusion. 

“Are you doing it how I would?” Okay, so there’s feeling. 

“How would you?”

“Did you add enough lube? I want to make sure you’re wet for me.” Jongin is really wet, he always uses too much lube, even when he’s just masturbating, and it’s nice that Kyungsoo is the same. He hums a confirmation. “You’re not just leaving it there, are you? Move your finger, just in and out, slowly. The same way you’d finger someone else, how I’ll start out with you.” 

Jongin does as Kyungsoo says, testing out the slow give of his own body like he knows what to do, like this is any other situation. It’s not bad. 

“Can I touch myself?” Jongin asks, then flushes bright when he realizes what he said. 

“God,” Kyungsoo says, some kind of wondrous tone to his voice, “of course you can, Jongin. Maybe move your finger faster, too, yeah?”

Jongin takes his dick in hand, stroking around the tip a few times, moves his finger a little faster. He almost doesn’t expect it when he moans, startled a little. Not much friction, with this much lubricant, but something about the pace, something about imagining this is Kyungsoo fingering him. “It’s good, Kyungsoo sunbae.” He thinks… “Might add another,” a brief hesitation, “would you add it this soon?”

“Of course, baby.” Kyungsoo groans, that same wet sound as he fucks his hand. “Gotta open you up, get you ready.”

Jongin can barely breathe as he enters himself with two fingers this time, so conscious of his body, of the hushed breathing across the line. “Oh, this is,” his breath hitches. This is much better. “‘M full,” he moans, “God, this is so,” maybe it’s the hand on his cock, too, but the stretch, the pull when he tries curling his fingers and pulls at his rim. He whimpers, loud, wanton. “Get me ready for, for what?”

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo sighs. “Don’t—don’t wanna freak you out, I don’t think we’re there yet, sweetheart.” Jongin thinks he knows what Kyungsoo means, but maybe Kyungsoo is right, maybe he’s not ready yet, because he drops it, focuses on the warmth and arousal in Kyungsoo’s voice when he says _sweetheart_. Not as bone-deep pleasing as _baby_ , but still so nice. 

“Like when you call me nice names,” Jongin murmurs, his toes curling. He moves his fingers faster in himself, rotating more onto his stomach so he can find a better angle. “Su—” He gasps loudly when he curls his fingers some random way and hits a nerve of pleasure so tight and high he sobs around it when he presses in, fucks his fingers sloppily into that same spot. He is out of body, riding back on the feeling, whining noises in the back of his throat, mindless with want when he thinks about Kyungsoo doing this to him.

“Fuck.” Kyungsoo grunts, a low, needy thing. “Knew you’d find it, you have such long fingers. Press it tight, Jonginnie, make yourself come, you deserve it.”

Jongin knows what will make him come. He pulls the pads of his fingers off whatever nerve that is, catches his breath with a sob. His face is already red-hot and his cock leaks precome when he angles his ass up, just a little, and sends a picture to Kyungsoo of his fingers, knuckle deep and so wet. 

“God fucking dammit,” Kyungsoo swears, octaves lower than his normal tone, “shit, Jongin, what the fuck.” He can’t handle knowing that Kyungsoo sees him like this, the hot clutch of his hole around his fingers, how Jongin spreads himself apart for him, just because he asked, because he wanted it. “I’m so close, Jongin, you make me so, God, so hard,” he moans.

“Show me,” Jongin muffles into the pillow, fucking himself on his fingers. “Show me how hard.”

Kyungsoo sounds far for a moment, then he grunts _check_ and Jongin all but fumbles over himself getting the screen to his face and back on their text thread. He flushes at the picture of his fingers in him, then a deeper burn down his body at the sight of Kyungsoo’s cock, pulled out from Kyungsoo’s black sweats, a hand wrapped around the girth, still taken by the size. 

“Hnn,” Jongin keens, pushing back on his fingers and rutting into the bed, caught between twin pleasure, “hyung, gotta, gotta get me ready,” he murmurs nonsensically, then his mind, his stupid traitor mind, connects it, gets what Kyungsoo means, his mouth waters with the thought, the idea that kyungsoo wants to be—that he thinks about—

“Wanna tongue your hole open then come on it,” Kyungsoo says, grunts, and Jongin damn near sobs, biting his pillow and coming, coming, tight around his fingers. He shakes through aftershocks while Kyungsoo moans into his ear, bitten swears when he comes on the other end of the line. 

For some time, they breathe. 

Jongin whimpers when he removes his fingers from his bum, still open and wet and clenching around nothing and everything. Kyungsoo’s no longer panting, his breathing even and calm. Jongin’s heart measures pace with every inhale, out. 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo starts. Hesitant. “How do you feel?”

Jongin stretches, yawning. He holds his cellphone to his ear and listens to Kyungsoo’s instinctual yawn. He turns onto his side and pulls his comforter up over his body. “Sticky. Sleepy.”

“You still good about it?”

“Sleepy,” Jongin mutters, a statement and answer. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says softly, “sleep, sweetheart.”


	2. baby, won't you come show me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, this part (which i wrote last week, there's no social commentary here) is sappier than i expected, but i'm bi and usually my characters exist in that au where everyone knows they're gay at like birth, so i haven't written a gay crisis in like. 5 years. back to porn with minimal plot soon. happy capricorn season with our favorite capricorns, happy 20biteen. [tumblr](https://1288z.tumblr.com/) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/lonelydemands)

Jongin tries very hard not to freak out. 

All things considered, he does okay. When he wakes up the next morning, covered in lube and come, he takes a shower and then exits his dorm suite to wash his sheets down the hall. His saving grace is that his intended suitemate didn’t come back after lunar year, and he has it to himself, and that he runs into no one in the communal laundry room. It is only six AM; he slept well last night. 

He wears sweats and a hoodie, aiming for comfort to combat the slight twinge of his bum. And that’s just from two fingers, how would—

 _Nope_ , he thinks, _nope nope nope_ , he’s not going there, not thinking about that. 

He goes to class. He has lunch with Sehun, laughs at all the terrible memes Sehun shows him, listens to Sehun wax poetic about Junmyeon’s skills in bed in spite of Jongin’s protests. 

“You not wanting to hear about my life is homophobia,” Sehun says, catching a bit of tofu from his ramyeon and popping it in his mouth. 

“You’re talking in graphic detail about my best friend’s dick in public,” Jongin hisses. 

“Don’t you talk about, like, pussy all the time with your straight friends?”

Jongin rolls his eyes. “There’s only Taemin, and you know he’s barely into sex. You and hyungs make everything I say because I’m straight.” _Really_ , a mean little voice in his head says. Jongin hopes his Inside Out-esque mind controllers strangled whoever that guy was. “Surely, there’s more to me.”

“Taemin was all over Minho at last week’s party, so jury’s still out on that one,” Sehun says, grinning with his tongue between his teeth. “When you say there’s more to you, do you mean that you’re finally having your bi awakening?”

“Ha ha,” Jongin deadpans.

“Hey, I’m not the outlier in this friend group.” He takes a sip from his soda, probably Sprite or Dr. Pepper, and reaches over to spear a piece of Jongin’s honey chicken with a chopstick. “It’s disappointing, you know, that you look like this much of a twink—” “—yah!” Jongin complains, but Sehun speaks louder over him, “—but won’t submit to the joys of prostate stimulation.”

“That sounds like a medical sickness,” Jongin says, then winces at how that sounds. Referring to gay sexual habits as a sickness is beyond stupid, even for him. “Sorry, fuck, I mean the word prostate, not—”

“I know what you mean, just be careful with word choice, yeah?” Sehun says, patting Jongin’s hand. “Do you really not know what that is?”

“Do I want to?” Jongin asks, cautious, pushing his plate closer to Sehun in a second apology. 

Sehun snorts. “God, am I your father, giving you a long-awaited sex talk?” Jongin almost died the one and only time his father awkwardly asked him if he needed condoms in his senior year, so no, not quite. “It’s, like—how do I explain this? Like, nerves in a dude’s, a cis dude’s, butt. Kind of like, uh, the g-spot? Oh, that’s such an ugly term, but that’s as close as I can get it for you.”

“Huh,” Jongin says. Is that what it was last night, that crazy burst of pleasure that made him come harder than he can ever remember?

“I’m sure Chanyeol is more than willing to give you a tutorial,” Sehun offers. 

“Ugh,” Jongin grimaces. Sehun laughs. 

“You just haven’t met the right man yet,” he says, in a posh, parental voice. _What if_ , Jongin thinks, _I have?_

-

Chanyeol keeps inviting Kyungsoo to the gym. Jongin avoids it the first few times, since he and Junmyeon leave as they arrive. _I don’t think avoiding me is the best way to deal with this_ , Kyungsoo texts him. Jongin disagrees, but replying to Kyungsoo means confronting their message thread, and Jongin can’t do that, not in public. 

On Friday, they can't go in the morning because Junmyeon has an essay due at ten AM that he decided to start at two AM the night before. It never even crosses Jongin’s mind that going late that night, around ten PM, is a poor idea. The gym is always empty this late, and Chanyeol never works out for more than a month at a time. Yet, when he and Junmyeon walk over to the back with the yoga mats to stretch, there Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are, standing there and laughing about something, Chanyeol’s hand slapping Kyungsoo’s shoulder. 

“I want in on the joke, too,” Junmyeon exclaims, and runs to jump onto Kyungsoo’s back. Jongin winces, expecting a terrible drop, but Kyungsoo easily steadies himself after the initial stumble, and curls his hands around the back of Junmyeon’s knees to keep him hoisted up. Jongin’s gut twists. 

“See, I told you working out had benefits,” Chanyeol boasts. 

“Think of all the wall sex you can have now,” Junmyeon faux-whispers in Kyungsoo’s ear, and then Kyungsoo catches Jongin’s eyes. For just one moment, Jongin cannot breathe. Objectively, Kyungsoo is attractive. Jongin can admit at least that to himself. Thinking that Kyungsoo is hot, appealing, is not what he expected or wants. His arms are tense under his white t-shirt from holding Junmyeon up, the veins in his forearms prominent, his grey joggers a snug fit. 

So apparently Kyungsoo decided not to tuck today. Jongin is unreasonably upset about it. He forces his gaze away from the outline of Kyungsoo’s dick in his sweatpants and glares somewhere between Chanyeol’s Nikes. 

“Nini, I wonder if you even love me,” Chanyeol greets. “I thought I was your favorite hyung.”

“Never said or implied that,” Jongin tells his shoes.

“Actually, I recorded it a few times. You’re very nice when you want me to buy you things.”

Jongin scowls at him. “You can’t use that against me in a court of law.” 

“You’re so grumpy these days,” Junmyeon says, his cheek on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Does the weight not bother Kyungsoo? Junmyeon has more muscle than he does. “‘S it because you haven’t gotten laid in two months?”

“Yah,” Jongin complains. 

“Wanna go out with us tonight? Kyungsoo can wingman you,” Chanyeol says. Jongin could laugh.

“Didn’t you say you were gonna wingman Kyungsoo?” Junmyeon reminds him. “Because he’s just as weird as Jongin lately?”

“Kyungsoo is right here,” says Kyungsoo. “And he can get himself laid.” Jongin looks over at him, annoyed. He doesn’t know why. 

Chanyeol twists his arm behind his back, curving his back in a stretch. “You’ve said that the past few weeks, and yet!”

Kyungsoo, like some sixth sense, catches Jongin’s gaze and stares back. “Maybe tonight will be the night.” What the fuck, Jongin thinks, something ugly and mean in his chest, what’s the fucking point of texting Jongin that bullshit about avoidance being stupid if his solution is to go out and fuck the next girl he sees. Fuck stretching. He ignores all of them and leaves to do too much time on the elliptical. 

Junmyeon and Chanyeol leave before he does, but Jongin declines their offer to go out in favor of cooling down with yoga stretches for an additional twenty minutes. By the time he makes it to the showers, stripped and calm again, he is one of a handful of people here, and the other few he sees are girls. 

He hides in the corner-most shower stall, and turns the water as hot he can stand it. He is difficult lately, grumpy and too on edge around his friends. He sighs. That should stop. If even Chanyeol is worried, when they have a friendship built around banter and pretend-antagonism, then he needs to chill out. His weird crisis is no one’s fault but his own. 

And Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo is also at fault.

When he turns the water off and peels the curtain back, he jumps ten feet in the air, cursing in shock with a hand to his chest. “What the hell!”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, “ah, sorry for scaring you.” He tries very hard not to look away from Jongin’s face. “It’s just that, well, we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” Jongin says. He takes a deep breath. “If you’re gonna insist, can you at least hand me my towel?”

“Uh,” Kyungsoo says, his gaze slipping down to Jongin’s torso, to his waist. Jongin crosses his arms over his chest. His nipples are hard. “Yes, yeah, sorry, here,” Kyungsoo hands him the towel. Seeing him this flustered is gratifying, and Jongin has to twist his mouth to keep from smiling. 

Jongin wraps the towel around his waist and steps back into the shower stall, beckoning Kyungsoo closer and then motioning for him to close the curtain. This is not a public conversation. “Okay. Talk.”

“I know that you’re avoiding me, and it’s childish,” Kyungsoo says, direct off the bat. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” he lies. 

“Really?” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “So you don’t run out of the gym every time I show up?”

“Junmyeon sunbae and I leave earlier.”

“Yet he can stay and say hi while you pout in the lobby.”

Jongin crosses his arms back over his chest. “I do not pout.”

“You’re pouting right now,” Kyungsoo tells him. Jongin scowls. 

“What does it matter, anyway? Don’t you have a one night stand to go pick up? You seemed so sure of that earlier.” Maybe he pouts a little. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, confused. Jongin refuses to explain, but Kyungsoo’s eyes dawn with recognition. You can’t be serious. You’re _jealous_?” Jongin tries to cut in to save face, but Kyungsoo keeps talking. “Is that fair? Do you get to play at jealousy for a passing remark when you’ve ignored me for a week?” He’s pissed. Jongin stares at him, unsure how to reply. “Jongin, answer me.”

“I’m not—” Not what? Ignoring him? Serious? Jealous? He swallows. Which lie can he manage tonight? “I was busy,” he finishes weakly. 

“To answer a fucking text message?” Kyungsoo snaps. He closes his eyes, squeezes the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger, takes a deep breath, opens them. “I’m sorry for cursing. That was rude. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have.” He takes a step forward. “But Jongin, don’t lie to me. Seriously. We’re adults.” He takes another deep breath. In another stall, a loose tap drips water on the tile. “Look, I’m attracted to you. If you, if you don’t, can’t feel the same way, then that’s fine. I will not chase you and make you uncomfortable. But you need to be honest with yourself and honest with me. Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Jongin chews on the inside of his cheek. At their overlapping social events, Jongin never hears him speak this much. Chanyeol and Jongdae, another sunbae in Chanyeol’s year, dominate conversations, and Kyungsoo jokes when needed, keeps them from public chaos, pushes water bottles into their hands when they drink too much. He’s not stoic, but he’s not a monologuer. 

“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” Jongin says, deep voice low. 

“I’m into you,” Kyungsoo says. “I think you’re gorgeous, and nothing turns me on more than you.”

“You’re very blunt.”

“One of us has to be,” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know how to say things like that when I’m not, uh, you know,” says Jongin. 

“Try,” Kyungsoo says. He steps closer, his hand pauses in the air next to Jongin’s waist, so close yet not touching. Jongin gets goosebumps. 

“Nothing turns me on more than you,” he repeats. His pulse is haywire. “You can touch my waist.” Kyungsoo does, and even through the towel, Jongin feels electrified. 

“Can I make you come?” Kyungsoo asks, quiet, stepping closer until their feet bump. 

Jongin’s heart rate picks up. “Uh, how?”

“However makes you comfortable.” He’s so close. His hair is damp with sweat, curling at his forehead. His white t-shirt clings to his body at the sides, draws attention to his body line in a way that makes Jongin so conscious of his near-nudity, of the thin towel that separates his body from Kyungsoo. 

_Finger me_ , his mind offers, _sunbae, I want you to finger me_. Jongin blushes just from the thought. His feet are heavy on the tile. “Maybe, maybe talking? While I, y’know.” He hates how awkward he is around Kyungsoo; he’s not a bumbling virgin scared to admit that he touches his dick. The rest of this is new to him, though. So new. 

“Okay,” says Kyungsoo. 

“Okay,” Jongin repeats. They stand there. “Uh—“

“You’ll have to drop the death grip on your towel,” Kyungsoo says, amused. 

“Oh, right,” Jongin says, laughing awkwardly. He lets the towel fall. 

“Can I look?” Kyungsoo asks. Jongin licks his lips and nods. Standing this close to Kyungsoo already started the process, but when Kyungsoo lowers his gaze to Jongin’s crotch, his dick swells even more, harder just from the attention. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Kyungsoo breathes. Jongin’s dick twitches, and he shoots his hand down to grab it, almost wishes that Kyungsoo didn’t see. 

Kyungsoo meets his eyes. “Do you like that, Jongin? Showing yourself off to me or when I tell you how pretty you are?” The hand on his waist is still there. Jongin has to, starts stroking himself, slow, just a build-up. “Both?” Jongin bites back a moan and nods. 

“Baby,” Kyungsoo starts, and Jongin can’t help but moan now, tightening his grip on his cock, “you have to know how beautiful you are, you’re the prettiest person I've ever seen, girl or boy. Your body line is insane.” With the hand at his waist, Kyungsoo’s thumb rubs circles on his hip bone. “The way your waist dips in those tight turtlenecks you wear sometimes, I think I’ll lose my mind.” Jongin whimpers. 

“Sunbae,” he says, fingers fast around his cock. “I—“

“I know,” Kyungsoo soothes, “baby, I know. Bet you’ll be even prettier when I get my fingers in you, hmm?” Jongin’s breath catches. His dick is so wet, precome pooling at the tip. “Get you on your belly, ass up, knees spread, tease your little hole until you’re begging me to put one inside.”

“Oh, God,” Jongin groans. He’s so hard. Kyungsoo makes him so hard. It’s like he loses his mind once Kyungsoo starts talking dirty to him, like all of his common sense flows down into need, into the buzzed awareness of his body, of how Kyungsoo sees his body, how he wants to use it. He forgets why he fights it. 

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Jongin nods, frantic, wants it so much. “Gotta, gotta use a lot of lube, I’m, oh fuck,” Kyungsoo licks his lips, his eyes drift back down to Jongin’s dick, “sunbae, I’m really tight, really.”

Kyungsoo exhales loudly and drops his free hand down to his grey sweats, palms the outline of his erection and grunts, breathless. _I did that_. Jongin is almost gleeful. _That’s because of me_. 

“God, I bet you are, the way your hole sucked your fingers in, in the pic you sent me? I can’t even count how many times I’ve come to that this week. You saw how hard it got me that night.” God, Jongin did. He can’t admit these things like Kyungsoo, but when it’s late enough and Jongin is sick of pretending that he doesn’t want it, he comes so hard to those pictures of Kyungsoo’s dick, how thick and perfect it looks, how it might feel in his hand, how it might feel inside him, in his mouth, in his—

“Let me see,” Jongin begs, so close. “Let me see it.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate, he pulls his joggers and boxers down in the front, just enough for Jongin to see his dick and the heavy weight of his balls. Jongin keens, high and needy. He must, fuck, he must lose all sense for a moment, because he wants nothing more than to drop to his knees in front of Kyungsoo and he does, he does, falls to his knees and leans his forehead on Kyungsoo’s thigh, the soft curl of hair there. 

“Oh my God,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Can I,” but he doesn’t need to finish because Kyungsoo promises, “ _anything_ ,” and that’s perfect.

He keeps his eyes closed because he doesn’t know if he can brave it otherwise; he leans up and in to the soft skin of Kyungsoo’s inner thigh, his face pressed into the crease, breathing in deep through his nose. Kyungsoo smells like—a man, whatever Jongin builds that up to in his mind, musk and sweat and the note of his cologne underneath. Jongin is so closer to coming. Kyungsoo moans above him, thigh flexing tight as he jerks himself off, voice breaking when Jongin can’t help but latch his mouth onto the skin, sucking just a little on his sunbae’s thigh. 

“Lemme finger you next time,” Kyungsoo pleads. Jongin likes that, that something as simple as getting to his knees can make Kyungsoo beg. He also likes that Kyungsoo speaks beyond hypotheticals, says when instead of if, like he understands how far gone Jongin is now. “Stuff you full, fuck you on three fingers until you’re crying, begging me for,” he cuts himself off to groan, deep and guttural in his throat. 

Jongin pants against his thigh. “For what, sunbae?”

“When I get my cock in you,” Kyungsoo swears, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for days.” _When_ , Jongin thinks dreamily, and comes all over his fingers and belly, gasping wetly into Kyungsoo’s thigh, shaking through it. 

“Baby,” Kyungsoo moans, voice broken, “I’m gonna, I’m coming.” Head still swimming, Jongin pulls back and finally opens his eyes, glancing up at Kyungsoo’s flushed face through his eyelashes. 

“Come on me,” he says, voice soft and hazy, leaving his mouth parted, tongue poking out, head tilted up towards Kyungsoo. “I want it.”

“Oh, fuck,” Kyungsoo gasps, “oh my fucking—“ 

Jongin closes his eyes when Kyungsoo starts coming, hot and thick all over his face, a jolt on his cheek, nose, right above his eye. Most of it ends up around and in his mouth, Kyungsoo absolutely aiming there, messy lines of come spent on his lips, filling his mouth until his tongue feels heavy and full. Kyungsoo grunts all through it, says dirty things like, “knew you’d be like this, so fucking perfect, prettiest little comeslut,” and Jesus, how did Jongin think he could ignore this?

“Can I take a picture?” Kyungsoo asks, panting. “It’s okay if not, I won’t be upset.” Jongin nods, looking up at him and the phone he fumbles with with wide eyes. “God, Jongin, you’re perfect,” he says, running his thumb over Jongin’s bottom lip, swiping the come there away. Jongin tilts his head so he can catch Kyungsoo’s fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and preening when his sunbae groans. Now, here, is enough. 

-

Jongin hasn’t hooked up with someone this much since his first semester, when the freedom away from home made it easy to sneak into his then-girlfriend’s dorm. But there’s no way that felt as good as this does. It’s like he’s always horny, ready for Kyungsoo to start anything with moment’s notice. 

The next day, Kyungsoo invites Jongin to lunch and they repeat last night’s events in a damn bathroom of the slow restaurant, although Kyungsoo only comes on his tongue this time. Quick cleanup, he jokes after. Four days later, on Wednesday, Kyungsoo texts Jongin, _When am I gonna get to finger you?_ when Jongin tries to study at four PM, and ends up fleeing to the topmost floor of the library to jerk off, fist in his mouth while Kyungsoo sends him a torturous progression of pictures of his hands, mouth, cock.   
   
Two days after that, in that godforsaken gym, Kyungsoo gets him off with a hand on his dick and his mouth on his neck, rubs his thumb on Jongin’s hole just to test, try it out, and Jongin comes so hard his eyes well up. The very next day after that, Kyungsoo visits his dorm and finally fingers him. Jongin is fucked out. 

“Gimme a third,” Jongin demands, out of his fucking mind. “I need it, I need it, _now_.” Kyungsoo kisses his hip bone, teases his ring finger around Jongin’s rim. 

“You’re a bossy baby today, aren’t you?” 

“You won’t fuck me,” Jongin snaps. “You said you were gonna fuck me and you’re not.”

“I am fucking you,” Kyungsoo fucking lies, pumping his fingers in at what must be snail’s pace. 

“Then I’ll find someone else who can do it prope—“ he gets cut off by Kyungsoo shoving three fingers into him at once, too hard, too sudden, it burns, God, it’s the best thing Jongin’s ever felt. They both know Jongin lied, that there’s no chance Jongin is brave enough for that. He doesn’t want anyone else. 

“Don’t be so greedy,” Kyungsoo says, something in his tone that makes Jongin want to apologize. His fingers aren’t as long as Jongin’s, so he worried a bit, but they’re still so good, thick enough, pressing tight on what Jongin now knows is his prostate, stroking it until Jongin writhes on the bed and sobs around all the want in his throat. “How’s that?”

“‘S good,” Jongin slurs, arching his hips and squeezing around the fingers inside him. “‘M full, sunbae, it’s, I’m so full.”

“You’re so sensitive,” Kyungsoo murmurs, awe and wonder and something else, something unnameable. “I thought it was ‘cause you were untouched here, but you fingered yourself how many times this week, and still…” He twists his fingers, drives them deeper inside, and Jongin cries out. His thighs shake. “Baby, if you’re like this now, how will you take my cock? Will it be too much for you?”

Jongin shakes his head, turning into his pillow to bite it, nails digging into his torso. “No, I can,” he says, muffled by cotton. 

Kyungsoo kisses Jongin’s thigh, so close to his hole. God, Jongin wants that so much, doesn’t know how to ask Kyungsoo, to remind him of what he promised, all those weeks ago. “What was that?” 

“I can take your cock, sunbae, I will.”

“That’s good to know,” Kyungsoo says, amused. 

“You can give it to me now, if you want,” Jongin says, making his voice as soft and appealing as possible, words slurring over each other. Kyungsoo won’t admit it, but he likes when Jongin plays at cute, and Jongin achieves quite a few concessions that way: an eleven PM movie run, fried chicken at two AM, help with an essay they both know he procrastinated. 

Kyungsoo hums. “You’re still too tight.”

“Then get me loose enough.” Kyungsoo keeps the pads of his fingers on Jongin’s prostate so long he loses his breath, back arching so high off the bed Kyungsoo must remind him to breathe. 

“Maybe I’ll get you a plug. Maybe I’ll let you walk around all day just like that.”

“A, a plug?” Jongin asks, breathless. 

“Mhmm, it’s like a vibrator to keep your ass stuffed full and stretched, make sure you’re ready once I decide to fuck you.”

“I think I’d like that,” Jongin says, airy and overwhelmed. “But where will you come on me tonight?”

“Jesus,” Kyungsoo says. He fucks his fingers fast and hard into Jongin, his palm slapping loud on Jongin’s ass. He is so wet. “You want it on your hole?”

Jongin spreads his thighs wider. “Yeah, I bet you do,” Kyungsoo murmurs, kissing the same spot on his thigh. “Push right against it and come inside, maybe fuck it deep inside you with my fingers?” Honestly, when Jongin comes, he passes out a little. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t do—that tonight, ends up just grinding into Jongin’s tummy until he comes, but Jongin sends him Amazon links for plugs all of the next day despite knowing that Kyungsoo is with friends. 

_Stop that_ , Kyungsoo texts him, so Jongin obviously has to send him pictures of his fingers in his mouth, four stretching it wide. _You’re such a brat_

_yeah? whose fault is that_

They don’t see each other for several days, caught between school and friends and life. They still spend too much time texting, though, and Jongin thinks riling Kyungsoo up his favorite hobby. He wears a tan cropped sweater with blue jeans to American breakfast with Junmyeon and Sehun and sends Kyungsoo what is really a clean picture, except maybe that he stretches so half his stomach and waist show, and Kyungsoo has a weird obsession with his belly and hips. Which is only part of why Jongin now owns five cropped shirts instead of just the two. Clean picture, but Kyungsoo sends him back a picture of a come-stained hand just ten minutes later, so Jongin still wins. 

_i hope u dont come that fast when u fuck me_ , Jongin sends, then jumps when Sehun snaps fingers in front of his face. He locks his phone. “What?”

“Don’t what me, you can’t be on your phone all breakfast.” He steals one of Jongin’s strawberries from his fruit bowl. “You ditched us all last week.”

“I was busy,” he tries. They chose outside seating, and it’s a nice day, warmer now as spring settles now, cloudy without gloominess. 

Junmyeon sighs. “Busy with your new best friend, Kyungsoo, huh.”

“You know you’re my number one girl, Myeonnie,” he says, resting his chin in his hands and staring dreamily at Junmyeon. “Kyungsoo sunbae and I just have a bit more in common than we expected.” _Yeah, like wanting his dick inside of you_ , says the annoying voice in his head that sounds a lot like Sehun. 

“You’re in a much better mood now,” Junmyeon says, smacking Sehun’s hand away when he tries to steal more of Jongin’s fruit. 

“Did you find someone desperate enough to let you fuck them?” Sehun asks. 

Jongin’s ears get hot. “Why must you guys make everything about sex?”

“Oh, now I’m suspicious,” Junmyeon says, squinting at Jongin. “You’re an adult and still make dick jokes, you have no room to judge.”

“I’m only 19, I can make whatever dick jokes I want until I’m, like, 25.” He takes a bite from his waffle. “I resent being called an adult. We’re not all ancient, sunbae.”

Junmyeon scowls. “I’m only two years older than you.”

“Think I might have to side with Nini this time, ahjussi,” Sehun says, laughing when Junmyeon flicks his temple. “Ow!”

“Don’t be a brat,” Junmyeon scolds. 

It’s pretty annoying that Jongin immediately thinks of Kyungsoo, of how he smiles when he called Jongin a brat or bossy for being demanding during sex. Jongin can’t help that Kyungsoo makes him want more, and never gives it fast enough. 

He wants to tell his best friends. It feels wrong to experience something this new, this sudden, this life-changing, and not have Sehun’s snark or Junmyeon’s bad jokes, their consistency and support. Junmyeon social media profiles every girl Jongin likes, and Sehun is the best person to mend a broken heart. It’s not like they’re homophobic, Jesus, but Jongin still feels a lump in his throat when he tries to say _I am hooking up with Kyungsoo sunbae_. He hates that it took him weeks to admit it to himself. He hates that he barely still can. 

He chews on his bottom lip under his top front teeth. “I have a question.”

“I, too, wonder how I am so handsome, so much the epitome of manhood,” Junmyeon says. Sehun chortles, an ugly, unappealing laugh, his truest self. 

Jongin smiles, just a small uptick to the corner. “I guess it is kinda about you? In the sense that, well.” He hesitates. 

Sehun knows, some near-perfect instinct, when Jongin struggles. He knows how to ease it. He shoves his phone in Jongin’s face. “You taken this class? Easiest science gen ed or no?”

Jongin squints. “Your brightness is too high. Yeah, it was a joke, you know I can’t count and I got a B plus.”

“Delightful, I love bare minimum.” He taps his phone a few times, then locks it and puts it face down. “What’s up?”

Jongin huffs. Easier to ask, “when did you, uh, you know, know that you were into guys?”

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow. Sehun looks straight at him, sipping on his iced coffee. He shrugs. “Just always knew. My dad and mom say I liked boys most even as a kid, in the ‘I wanna marry him’ sense instead of best friendship.”

“It was weird for me,” Junmyeon says. “I was in middle school which, yeah, is the worst time to realize that, and I had a devastating crush on my then best friend.” He hums. “Then they outed me on Facebook and my mom tried filing a lawsuit and got in a screaming match with his dad at the farmers’ market.” 

Jongin knew this. How can he rephrase it? He reaches across the table to play with Junmyeon’s fingers, some silent support. “I think I mean how.”

Sehun steals another strawberry. “The same way you, or whoever, the general you, likes anyone else. Like, are they just attractive or am I attracted to them, can I picture myself kissing or being intimate with this person? A lot of it is gut feeling, there’s not really a parameter.”

Junmyeon nods, grinning when he adds, “the Kinsey test always tells me my sexuality is a zero for undefinable, and I’m, like, okay, fair, but I know that I’m mostly into dudes and only vaguely into girls, but not in a marriage way. It’s just... feeling.”

“Okay,” Jongin says. “What would you call the opposite of that, with, uh,” jeez, how can he phrase this?

“You call it whatever you wanna call it,” Sehun says, steadfast, “or you don’t call it anything until you’re ready to.” 

“Remember when Chanyeollie was, like, on bisexual dot com reading self-help guides? For a while he was all, ‘I don’t wanna label things, I just happen to want to fuck Minseok’ and now he has a giant bi flag in his living room despite living with two straight dudes. Things work at the pace they work at, y’know?”

Jongin almost chokes on his water at the mention of Chanyeol’s straight roommates. It’s weird that Kyungsoo is one of them. 

“Cool,” Jongin says. “I was just curious.”

“Sure, Nini,” Sehun says. Jongin thinks they know, that they get what he means, and appreciates that they don’t push. He traces the heart lines on Junmyeon’s palm. 

“Anyone wanna get day drunk?” Sehun asks, tension broken just like that. 

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” Jongin says, and grabs his phone to find the nearest liquor store. 

-

Getting day drunk on a Saturday is not the worst idea in the world. Some distant part of Jongin realizes he might die in the morning, but Sehun mixed half a bottle of vodka with an extra large blue raspberry slushie, and Jongin loves his best friend right now. This is a blast.

Chanyeol invited them to a house party tonight, somewhere nice where they won’t need to share the other half of their vodka, and they get there at ten PM way too drunk, Jongin dancing with Junmyeon while Sehun tries to find Johnny to make him mixed drinks. Jongin will never let go of this vodka slushie. 

The house is cramped and loud, confetti strewn everywhere, half-empty Solo cups on all flat surfaces like some balancing game. Chanyeol must be in charge of music tonight, and in the mood to flex his best music taste, because the mix rotates between heavy bouncing rap and a dirty, slow grind R&B that spikes his blood. He hears the front door slam, the wobbly balance of shoes, dozens of yelled conversations. 

“Sunbae!” he shouts into Junmyeon’s ear, “do you know if Kyungsoo sunbae is here?”

“We came together,” Junmyeon reminds him, patting Jongin’s cheeks. “Nini, you make me so proud!”

“Huh?” Jongin shouts. 

“Thank you for trying to tell us earlier! I’m so proud of you!” 

Jongin has no idea what Junmyeon means, but he beams all the same; he loves making Junmyeon proud and happy, so he did well. He coos and pats Junmyeon’s cheeks, too, God his best friend has the softest cheeks in the world, rivaled only by Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo. “Gotta find Kyungsoo!” Jongin tells Junmyeon, and starts squeezing out of the dance mush into the calmer sidelines. Well, there are three or four couples in various stages of intimacy, but Jongin walks without stepping into people—many people, whatever, sorry, Kibum sunbaenim, have a good night, I really like your nail color!—and stumbles around until he sees a short guy with short black hair that might be the right build as Kyungsoo. 

“Sunbae?” he asks, poking their back. 

Minseok turns around. Jongin frowns. “You’re not my sunbae.”

“Yah,” Minseok complains, “then what am I, used trash?”

“No, no! You are my sunbae but not, like... my sunbae. Y’know?

“I wish it made sense,” Minseok nods. “I guess it kind of does. Junmyeon?”

He looks around, hoping that Kyungsoo might pop out from a door like people do in movies. “No, I’m looking for...” Oh, that’s him. He walks away without finishing his sentence. Kyungsoo is here. Kyungsoo is right there, leaning over a girl with her shoulders back against the wall. They are very close. Kyungsoo is sleek in black jeans and a deep blue turtleneck, and it’s weird, Jongin thinks, that he looks this good and Jongin isn’t kissing him right now. 

Oh. They haven’t kissed yet. 

Maybe if Jongin was sober, he might bite his tongue, go find Sehun and Junmyeon, and sulk in private. Instead, he back hugs Kyungsoo and rests his chin on his shoulder. “H’lo,” he says. 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo greets, surprise in his voice. 

Jongin squints at the girl. “Who are you?”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo chastises. “I’m sorry, he’s just drunk,” he tells the girl. 

“Nuh uh,” Jongin shakes his head, “just...just a little tipsy.”

“Junmyeon sunbae texted me the pictures of your vodka slushie,” Kyungsoo says wryly. 

“It was so good!” Kyungsoo inches his ear away, so maybe Jongin should use inside voices this close. “Oh, I don’t know where I put it.” When did he lose it? “Sunbae, let’s go find it.” 

“Can if I finish talking to Amber sunbaenim first?”

Jongin squints at her again. Something makes Jongin nervous, wants to get Kyungsoo alone. “No.”

“Wah, you got yourself one of those, Kyungsoo? It really is twentygayteen, huh?” The girl, Anna maybe, laughs. 

Kyungsoo sighs and detangles Jongin’s hands and guides him to stand by his side, a hand on the small of Jongin’s back. “He’s my friend, stop reading into things.” Jongin… doesn’t like that. What doesn’t he like about it? It makes him feel weird inside. 

“I wouldn’t tell,” Amy says, pouting a little. Jongin hates that this girl with an American name that starts with an A pouts at Kyungsoo. He needs a copyright. 

“That’s great,” Kyungsoo says, always so earnest, “but he’s my friend. I’m gonna get some water into him, I’m sorry he was rude, text me, yeah?” and then Kyungsoo leads Jongin away, no contact other than the palm on his back. Jongin hates that. Drunk was a lot more fun seven minutes ago. 

Kyungsoo brings him to an empty bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind them. He sits Jongin down on an unmade bed and rustles around a little until he finds a water bottle and makes Jongin drink at least half of it before allowing a break. “Good. Did you eat?”

Jongin nods. “We had breakfast.”

Kyungsoo sighs again. “It’s midnight, baby.”

“Thought I wasn’t your baby, was just your friend,” Jongin grumbles, twisting the bottle cap. He looks down at the floor. 

Kyungsoo kneels in front of him and follows his gaze until Jongin relents and meets his eyes. “Hey, you’re not out.”

“Maybe I wanna be,” Jongin protests. The words sound new. “Maybe that was my attempt.”

“Sure, maybe it was, but you’re also very drunk—“

“—tipsy!” Jongin corrects.

“Drunk. I am not shitty enough to let you come out to a stranger when you’re drunk.” Kyungsoo shrugs. “I haven’t, either. I think it matters less to me, but the point stands.” Kyungsoo isn’t shitty at all. He’s the best person Jongin knows. 

Jongin pouts. “Well, why were you flirting with her?”

Kyungsoo, someway, somehow, laughs, a heavy one with genuine humor and content. Jongin resents it, but he loves Kyungsoo’s laughs. “Baby, Amber is a butch lesbian who, like, hates men. Which is fair. If I tried flirting with her, her girlfriend would slice my hand off.” Kyungsoo rubs circles into Jongin’s knee. “She really is my friend. You’re my baby.”

Jongin could die. How is the boy he’s with so perfect and pretty, he wants to know. Is he with him? Are they together? They haven’t kissed. “We haven’t kissed,” he tells Kyungsoo. 

“You wanna?” A hand traces his jaw, his cheekbone. 

Jongin nods, so sincere. “Aren’t we together?”

Kyungsoo exhales. “I‘d like that, but I don’t know if you do.”

“I do, sunbae.” Jongin leans his cheek into Kyungsoo’s hands. “Wanna kiss you.”

“I don’t think that’s all there is to that.” Kyungsoo sighs again, an ironic little smile on his perfect face. “If you remember this conversation in the morning, we’ll talk. You wanna nap or go home?”

“Whose bed?” Jongin rubs his hands on the soft cotton sheets. 

“My friend Yixing’s, he won’t mind. Let’s just lie down for a bit, hm? Drink some more water.”

Jongin drinks more water and they lie down, face to face over the covers. Outside is loud, chaotic. Here, on this stranger’s bed with a man that isn’t quite his, Jongin feels the calmest he has all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag yourself mayhaps, i was quite literally chanyeol going on bisexual dot org during a gay crisis. part three sometime this weekend, probably friday.


	3. we'd be good, we'd be great together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are, gays. tumblr / twitter/ songs

Jongin wakes up and resents consciousness. “Eemph,” he says into what might be a pillow. Ugh, drool all over it, and it smells so bad. 

“You up?”

“Umphf,” Jongin whimpers. The vodka slushie does not have a pleasant aftertaste. Why is there a dead thing in his mouth, how did his hunter ancestors live like this. Ugh, his nose hurts, and that doesn’t even make sense. 

“Are you going to throw up?” 

Jongin covers his nose with his hand. Only if he thinks about it, which he refuses. He needs Gatorade. He needs Gatorade and a gallon of the spiciest galbitang he can find. God, he wants his mom’s food. An entire bag of rice and something with potatoes. Gatorade. Gatorade first. 

“Gatorade sounds like a better idea than the entire bag of rice,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin groans. He almost wonders if Kyungsoo can hear his thoughts before he hears himself mumble _can Kyungsoo hear my thoughts_ and realizes that he is still a little drunk. But mostly in pain. 

Kyungsoo giggles. Jongin opens his eyes, so slow, and is glad that the room is still dull and dark. The curtains are blackout, so good things might still exist. “C’mon, I have Advil for you, sit up.”

“I’ll die,” Jongin whispers. Kyungsoo is over the covers with him, dressed in new clothes and with minty breath. His hair is wet and floppy, brown eyes warm and inviting. Jongin wonders, for a heart-wrenching moment, how anyone can be this beautiful. Then he realizes his thoughts and, ah, well. Fuck. 

“God, you’re just as dramatic as I expected. I made haejangguk, you big baby, but you gotta shower first.”

“But I want it now,” Jongin says, his voice husky with sleep and the whine he knows Kyungsoo loves. 

“Shower,” Kyungsoo demands. “Advil, shower, stew. In that order.” Jongin sighs and sits up. “Good boy,” Kyungsoo says when Jongin swallows the two pills and drains the rest of last night’s water bottle plus another Kyungsoo has ready. 

Jongin tries not to shudder from the casual praise. Kyungsoo knows, and uses it against him. Unfair. “You should’ve showered with me, I’ll fall and break my skull.”

“We’re not alone,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “Baekhyun’s house, remember?” 

“So,” Jongin mutters. His heartbeat pounds even as he says it. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes are serious. “You tell Sehun and Junmyeon?”

Jongin’s mouth twists. He remembers Junmyeon shouting _thank you for trying to tell us, I’m so proud of you_. “I think they already know.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Kyungsoo says, still so patient. He pats Jongin’s shoulder. “Come on, shower and then stew. Talking comes much later.”

“I remember,” Jongin says, looking Kyungsoo in the eyes. Kyungsoo stands before him, arm’s reach away as he recaps the Advil and water bottle. 

“Hmm?” Kyungsoo asks, like he would forget. 

“I remember our conversation last night.” He swallows. “Seeing you flirt with other people makes me hurt inside. I know you weren’t flirting, but.” He shrugs. 

“Jealousy isn’t a good reason to start, Jongin.” Still so patient. 

“I know, I—that’s not it.” He shakes his head. “I feel safe with you. You wouldn’t even kiss me last night.”

“That’s bare minimum decency,” he dismisses. 

“I know!” Jongin exhales, clasping his hands. “I know that, I know it is, but my point is—these things are part of the whole. I don’t want you with other people. I feel safe with you, even from the simplest things. I lo—like intimacy with you.”

“Jonginnie,” Kyungsoo says. 

Jongin shakes his head again. He needs to finish this thought while he’s still a little drunk, albeit sober enough for it to matter. “You cooked haejangguk for me and got me Advil. Only Junmyeon and Sehun do things like that.” His pulse races in his throat. “I feel like you’re my friend, even after all we’ve done. In a good way, like friends, but with really cool benefits, except I don’t want to just, just friends with benefits you. Sunbae. Does that make sense?”

Kyungsoo nods, something unknowable yet so familiar on his face. “I feel safe with you, too,” he murmurs. 

“We could try…” he hesitates. “Not just having sex?”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “I’ve taken you on, like, four dates.”

“What?” Jongin asks, eyes wide. There was lunch that one time—oh, but also smoothies after Jongin’s classes, when he picked Jongin up from the library after he made Jongin come in his pants and brought him out for beef. The pizza he ordered after fingering Jongin, cuddling on Jongin’s bed while they watched a movie. Chicken at 2AM, the movie theater at 11PM. “Oh.” But… “But you haven’t kissed me.”

Kyungsoo has such big eyes. “I, uh… I didn’t know if you wanted to.”

“I do,” Jongin admits. “I do.” He licks his lips. “You can’t eat me out before you kiss me.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow, hooded and intense. “You want me to eat you out, baby?” 

Jongin nods, almost at a loss for words. “You promised.” 

Kyungsoo smirks. “Hm. I guess I did.” How Kyungsoo manages to look him up and down from this angle, dark eyes on Jongin’s body like it’s his, and he is, isn’t he—it’s overwhelming. “Shower then stew. Come on.” When he motions for Jongin, he goes. Here, now, in this moment, he can’t imagine following anyone else. 

-

Somehow, Kyungsoo pilfers a towel and sweats for him—“it’s not a mystery, I told you you’re almost Yixing’s size”—and Jongin is so glad yesterday’s clothes stay in the past, along with the stench of vodka and mistakes made. 

This is Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing’s shared house, and even though Yixing is away for the weekend, the other two are still here, along with Chanyeol and Jongdae. All Kyungsoo’s friends, none Jongin’s minus Chanyeol. He does like Minseok sunbaenim, but that’s peripheral, a familiar face at a party or school event if Jongin knows no one else. Sehun jokes that Jongin imprinted on him and Junmyeon like a baby bear, and only otherwise accepted Chanyeol because he is half in love with him. To be fair, Chanyeol is in love with four other people, so Jongin doesn’t feel bad.

“Good morning, sunbaes,” Jongin greets, bowing a little at the front of the wobbly dining table that somehow seats all of them. Jongin expected more mess, but it is noon, he overslept by miles, and cleanup was long done. 

“Oh, don’t bow, that much movement hurts,” Baekhyun says. He has sunglasses on. Inside. What a dream. 

“Jongin-ah,” Chanyeol greets, smile, “you sleep well? Come sit with me, I saved seats for you and Kyungsoo.” Kyungsoo guides him with a hand on his back, seats him and then comes back with bowls. 

“Baekhyun, come help me get the food,” Kyungsoo demands, tossing chopsticks and spoons in the middle of the table for them to distribute. 

Baekhyun groans. “But I’m dying.”

“I can help,” Jongin offers, half standing already. 

Kyungsoo points the long end of a spoon at him. “Sit down.” Jongin sits down. “Baekhyun, kitchen, now.” Baekhyun moans in pain again, but trudges the few steps to the kitchen as he does it. 

“Kyungsoo always gets what he wants, he nags us for hours otherwise,” Jongdae says, and Jongin realizes he’s speaking to him. 

Jongin laughs. “He doesn’t nag that much.” Just a bit, like when Jongin forgets to eat all day or submits his essays two days late. Jongin likes that, though.

“God, I wish that were true,” Chanyeol sighs. “You’re just whipped.”

“Chanyeol,” Minseok says, “maybe if you thought,” and leaves it at that. He glances at Jongin. 

“I’m whipped, too! Baekhyun is whipped. You’re whipped for him. We are all just Kyungsoo’s backup dancers on this stage of life. Is what I meant.”

“Right,” Jongin says slowly, his ears hot. “Stop being weird, Chanyeollie.”

“You and Junmyeon always call me Chanyeollie when you’re insulting me, it’s losing the cute touch,” Chanyeol complains. 

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo come back with rice and a huge pot of stew, balanced between Kyungsoo’s hands with oven mitts and a dish towel underneath. 

“I come bearing God’s greatest gift,” Baekhyun says, placing the rice in the middle to go around. 

“Kyungsoo’s cooking?” Jongdae asks. 

“That too!” Baekhyun plops down into his seat. “But also, always, rice.”

“Here,” Kyungsoo says, and scoops rice into Jongin’s smaller bowl, “I’m giving you plenty of meat, make sure you eat all of it,” when he fills Jongin’s stew bowl. 

“You can’t give him all of it,” Baekhyun protests. 

“You wanna bet?” Kyungsoo asks, eyebrows raised in challenge. He gives Jongin another piece of meat. “This is his meal, you’re lucky I feel gracious today.”

“Sorry, parental figure,” Baekhyun says, squinting at Kyungsoo. “I’m hungover, too, is my life meaningless?”

Jongin folds a corner of his bottom lip under his teeth. “I’ll give you some of my meat, sunbaenim?”

Minseok laughs. “Kyungsoo cooks for us all the time, Baekhyun just loves complaining.”

“It’s an Olympic sport to him,” Chanyeol agrees. “Gold every year.”

“Jongin, these are all lies,” Baekhyun says, grinning big. “I am very into reconciliation and fairness, that’s all.”

“Baekhyun is a Taurus, so he only means fairness for himself,” Minseok explains. 

“You can’t use that to explain everything I do!”

“Baekhyun is a Taurus, so he’s naturally confrontational,” says Minseok. Kyungsoo laughs, finally sitting down after putting food for himself as well. 

“Weren’t you complaining about a hangover three minutes ago,” Kyungsoo asks Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun lowers his sunglasses to his nose and squints. “My mind moves so fast I forget everything from the minute before. What are we talking about?”

Eating with Kyungsoo’s friends is less awkward than Jongin expected. They embody the same chaotic energies as Junmyeon and Sehun, bickering all throughout, Jongdae whining when Baekhyun won’t get him water, Minseok draping himself over Chanyeol for no reason other than to make him blush, Kyungsoo and Minseok making elaborate faces at each other until Minseok winks seductively and Kyungsoo bursts into laughter into his haejangguk. 

“Minseok hyung is cocky because he caused both Chanyeol and Yixing’s gay awakenings,” Baekhyun laughs when Chanyeol covers his face with his hands when Minseok blows him a kiss. “He’s, like, somehow worse when Yixing hyung is here.” 

“I only wish to impart knowledge so that you, too, can go forth as your best sexy self,” Minseok sighs. 

“My best slutty self, you mean,” Baekhyun says. 

“Minseok taught Baekhyun everything he knows,” Kyungsoo says, taking a drink from Jongin’s water. Under the table, his hand remains solid and warm on Jongin’s thigh. 

“Ah, we’re really outnumbered, eh, Kyungsoo?” Jongdae asks. Kyungsoo snorts, but offers no answer. “Well, I guess you’re straight, too, huh, Jonginnie?” Jongin’s eyes widen, and he tries to figure out how to answer. He wants to tell his friends first. It’s hard, saying it aloud. What if they can—

“Yah, pass me the rice,” Chanyeol says, or announces, really, way too loud for breakfast conversation. “Oh, kidding, it’s in front of me.”

“We can’t talk about heterosexuality at the dining table, you know it gets me nauseous,” Baekhyun says. 

“Ow, why’d you kick me!” Jongdae whines, glaring at Minseok. 

“My foot slipped,” Minseok says, smiling. “Jongin-ah, get more food, get more food!”

“It’s okay, sunbae, I shouldn’t eat too much,” says Jongin, but Kyungsoo is already putting more broth and some meat in his bowl. 

“Scoop rice into it,” Kyungsoo says, “do you want more gochu?”

“More… what?” Jongin asks. He is an adult. He can ask for correction like an adult. 

“Gochujang,” Kyungsoo corrects, blushing a little. “Like—“ 

“Oh, he knows what you mean,” Chanyeol giggles. Kyungsoo covers his face and groans. 

-

Late at night, Jongin is brave. 

_whys it so much easier for u_

_What do you mean?_

_thatim a boy_  
u take yt all in stride like it’s not a bigfeskk to u  
*big deal 

_It is a big deal to me_

_then whym i the only one freaking out_

_I know what I want, and I know that that’s you  
Not so say you don’t know or that you don’t want me but were different ppl andwe process things differently, at different paces, with diff reasons _

_:/_  
its not like……anyone will be mean  
my parents go to seoul pride w our church to give hugs to gay ppl so ik they’ll be fine w it but its still m  
hard to say out loud 

_It’s a big thing, that’s not your fault  
You don’t have to say it. Don’t think you have to say it for me _

_i feel like a coward_

_You’re obligated to no one but yourself_

_ugh  
myself is a bitch baby_

_Yah  
Stop that _

_ughhhhhhhhghhhhhhhgghhyfchhhhhhhh_

_I’m not in a rush, I can wait for you however long  
My friends probably know but they won’t say anything until I confirm iy _

_im gonna tell jun and sehun tmrw  
come over tmrw morning to kiss me_

_You sure?_

_yes im sure i want kisses_

_Jongin_  
  
Jongin sends the man shrugging emoji. _i guess we Shall See_

-

With Kyungsoo on top of him, Jongin feels tethered. 

He didn’t know that kissing him would be this nice. They’re on his bed in his dorm, Jongin on his back with Kyungsoo in between his spread legs, a knee up by Kyungsoo’s chest and warm hands cupping Jongin’s neck and jaw. They’ve kissed for hours. Kyungsoo was nervous at first, blushing and avoiding Jongin’s eyes, so besides himself just from this, the thought of it. Nothing is more endearing. 

Jongin kissed first, but Kyungsoo caught control so soon, angling Jongin’s head, deepened the kiss until Jongin moaned, overwhelmed when Kyungsoo stroked his tongue into his mouth. Even now, maybe twenty minutes or an hour later, this is perfect, something worth waiting for and something Jongin wishes he always knew. God. Jongin’s last kiss had thin lips, but Kyungsoo’s are plush, full, promise and fulfill the right amount of pressure, pull Jongin’s bottom lip between them and suck, just a bit, kisses Jongin’s eyes, nose, cheeks, again his lips. Did Jongin think he was fine without this? His lips are sore. He can’t imagine. 

“Baby,” Kyungsoo sighs. He kisses Jongin’s left eyelid. “The prettiest boy.” Jongin preens, his body warm and pliable everywhere. “You know you are, right?”

“If you say so,” Jongin breathes. 

“It’s true even if I don’t say so.” Kyungsoo kisses his neck, the soft skin right below his ear. Jongin moans, doesn’t expect it to feel as good as it does, but of course it does, everything with Kyungsoo does. “You can mark me,” Jongin tells him, raising his chin to the side for better exposure. _Yeah?_ Yeah. Jongin is always sure with him. 

“Gotta show everybody that you’re mine, my baby, my sweetheart,” Kyungsoo murmurs, sucking hickeys into Jongin’s neck. 

“People can’t belong to others,” Jongin says, nails digging into Kyungsoo’s back. He grinds his hips up, tightens his knees around Kyungsoo’s waist, pulls him in and down. The weight of it, the quick press and pull of Kyungsoo’s dick on his, the escalating heat, all of it tethers him. He is always sure with him. 

“I know,” Kyungsoo huffs out a laugh, “but I’m still yours.” Jongin’s heart aches. Kyungsoo is so cheesy and embarrassing sometimes; it’s a wonder that this still does it for him. 

“I’ve been… showering really long and cleaning myself very well lately. Just in case,” Jongin says. _Yeah?_ Yeah. “I want you to.”

“I still jerk off to the first pictures you sent me of your ass,’ Kyungsoo murmurs in his ear, lips brushing and voice so deep and, like, God, sensual, that Jongin shivers. 

“Sunbae,” he whines, embarrassed. 

Kyungsoo laughs again. Jongin loves that, that he can make him laugh from something as small and silly as a whine. “What? You have to at least admit that your ass is mine.”

“I will kick you out,” Jongin threatens. It’s not like he denies it.

“Sometimes I can’t sleep, I’m so busy thinking about how much I wanna fuck it,” Kyungsoo says. He rolls his hips down against Jongin’s, still languid and tempered. 

“God, you’re the worst,” Jongin huffs, pulling Kyungsoo back in for a kiss. “Shut up and make me come.”

“But I’m _your_ worst, right,” Kyungsoo says into the kiss, giggling when Jongin pulls his ear and bites his top lip in warning. He’s an idiot. He’s Jongin’s best.

-

“So,” Sehun says. Sehun is lucky enough to live in a studio downtown, close enough to campus to walk to classes without the suffocation of most dorm situations. They made previous plans to hang out and watch movies today and get drunk or high, but after yesterday’s hangover, they chose soda and popcorn instead. Sitting at the edges of the sofa with Junmyeon at the other end with Sehun lying across them, his head in Jongin’s lap, is as comfortable as position as any. 

“So,” Junmyeon agrees. Some new Joseon prince series is marathoning on TVN, and Junmyeon is obsessed with the lead actor, half-joking when he claims he’s his future husband, so here they are, watching him fall off a cliff and bleed profusely everywhere. Jongin thought this was a comedy. 

“So,” Jongin repeats. 

“Are we gonna talk about those things on your neck?” Sehun asks, reaching his hand up to poke Jongin’s collarbone. Kyungsoo took Jongin’s permission to leave marks like a challenge.

“Ow, that hurts,” Jongin slaps his hand away. Sehun pokes another one behind his ear. 

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Junmyeon asks, a playful lilt to his voice. He shares a look with Sehun that Jongin probably isn’t meant to see. Jongin thinks they know, but he also knows they won’t say anything until he does. 

“Uh,” Jongin says. He swallows. “There’s no lucky lady.”

“Hmm,” Junmyeon hums. Sehun plays with Jongin’s hand, traces the length of his fingers. 

“So I have something to tell you guys,” Jongin says. “About…” He pushes his hair off his forehead with his free hand; he thinks he needs a haircut, but Kyungsoo thinks the long cut frames his face well, and maybe Jongin delays because of that. “Can you say something?” he whines. 

Junmyeon faces him, cheek on the back of the sofa. “You know you can tell us anything, Nini.” 

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Jongin says, frustrated. “Am I a coward?”

“No,” Sehun says, sure and immediate. “No one’s opinion matters for you other than yours.” It sounds like Kyungsoo’s text last night, _you are obligated to no one but yourself_. How does Jongin relate everything back to him? His heart pounds. 

“I’m hooking up with Kyungsoo sunbaenim,” says Jongin.

“Okay,” Junmyeon says softly. Sehun intertwines their hands.

“And I really like him. Which is new for me. Because, well, you know.” His mouth tightens. “He’s a boy. The hickeys are from him.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Junmyeon says. “I’m really happy you trust us with that.”

“Did you know?”

“I mean, we suspected,” Sehun says. “You did ask us how to know if you’re gay, like, last week.”

“It was hypothetical,” Jongin protests, but even he sees how ridiculous this is. 

Sehun laughs. “You and Kyungsoo hover around each other like you’re fucking.”

“Last week at the gym, he stood and watched you on the treadmill for five minutes before Chanyeol threw a bottle at him,” Junmyeon says. “And Chanyeol told us that you passed out with him when we thought we lost you at the party.”

“I have good treadmill form,” Jongin tries. 

“Jonginnie,” Sehun says, squinting up at him, “if you think you’re the lone straight person with exclusively gay and bisexual friends, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“We flock like birds,” Junmyeon nods. 

“I’ve never spoken to a straight person in my life,” Sehun says. “I break into hives. My ears start bleeding.”

“He starts vomiting black mucus,” says Junmyeon.

“Just blood everywhere.” Sehun pokes his side. “Being straight is a sin, I’m glad you’re cured now.”

“God, you guys are the worst,” Jongin whines, like he isn’t grinning so wide his mouth hurts. 

“You can replace Chanyeol as our token bisexual,” Junmyeon beams. “I am prouder than ever before in my life. My baby’s all grown up.”

“Shall we interrogate Kyungsoo sunbae?” Sehun demands, “make sure he treats our baby well?”

“I’m older than you!” 

Sehun ignores him, says, “how big must his dick be for it to turn you out?”

Jongin says, “okay, conversation over,” and covers Sehun’s stupid mouth with both his palms.

-

When Jongin texts Kyungsoo _I told them_ and then _:)_ , the single purple heart Kyungsoo sends back makes his heart burst, too much feeling all at once. He is so happy. 

-

Days pass again without much time spent together. Kyungsoo is now the procrastinator trying to write a twelve page paper in two days, which becomes three and then four, and the absolute panic he radiates when Jongin stops by the library to bring him lunch is beyond hilarious. 

“I’ve made a few mistakes,” Kyungsoo says behind a stack of fifteen books. 

“How many of these have you read?” 

“Uh,” Kyungsoo squints behind his glasses. “The first five pages of four.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin says, gleeful, “you’re so fucked.”

“Only amateurs need to read the entire book to bullshit an A paper,” Kyungsoo says, but Jongin hears the high whine and mania in his voice. This is delightful. 

Jongin looks forward to Friday all week. Kyungsoo’s roommates are out for the night, a party and then crashing at Minseok’s again, and since they know now, that Kyungsoo and Jongin do… things, Jongin can stay the night at Kyungsoo’s for the first time. They always go to Jongin’s dorm, since he lives alone in the far corner of the hallway, but Kyungsoo has a king-sized bed and promised to make Jongin dinner. Jongin showered for so long he pruned, and if Kyungsoo doesn’t fulfill his promises, he might die. Both of them. 

“Sunbae,” he greets when Kyungsoo opens his apartment door and lets him in, stepping out of his shoes. Kyungsoo looks great, as he always does, even in just a thin tan sweater rolled up to his elbows and jeans, cozy in his glasses and green socks. Kyungsoo just stands there, staring at Jongin. Jongin looks around. “What? Is there—“

“You look…” Kyungsoo puts a hand on his waist, turns him around so his back faces Kyungsoo instead. 

“I feel a little objectified,” Jongin jokes, as if he doesn’t arch his back so that Kyungsoo’s hand finally trails to his bum. 

“I promise I’ll look at your face later,” Kyungsoo says absentmindedly. “God, these jeans are tight, Jongin.” He squeezes Jongin’s ass under his hands. Jongin tries not to preen. This is one of his favorite pairs of jeans, skinny light wash denim, and they do make his butt and legs look nice. “Are you dying of hunger?” Kyungsoo asks out of the blue.

Jongin furrows his eyebrows. “No…?”

“Good,” Kyungsoo says, and pulls him into his bedroom.

“Sunbae,” Jongin laughs in disbelief when Kyungsoo pushes him back onto his bed, bouncing a little on the black comforter. Kyungsoo’s room is nice, clean dark lines, a bookshelf with books and movies, a big television on the wall opposite his bed, his backpack on the dark wood floor, movie posters on the wall, jackets strewn across a desk chair, lube and a box of tissues on his bedside table. “Oh, look at him, he doesn’t even hide his lube.”

“I’ve gotta be ready for whatever you send me,” Kyungsoo says, climbing on top of him. Jongin spreads his legs to give him space in between and hums into Kyungsoo’s mouth when he leans down to kiss him, hands drifting down and under to grab his ass again. “I have a terrible joke to make.”

“Say it,” Jongin demands, “say it, wait, lemme get my phone so I can record you for blackmail,” and laughs, loud and happy, when Kyungsoo snaps his teeth at him. “Say it!”

Kyungsoo scrunches his nose. “It’s embarrassing even in my head, I really might die if I say it aloud.”

“I’ll sing at your funeral,” Jongin promises.

Kyungsoo sighs and squeezes his ass, as if to remind Jongin of the pressure, as if Jongin would ever forget. “I have my entire world in my hands.” 

Jongin _shrieks_. “No!”

“I told you it was bad!” Kyungsoo defends, giggling when he sees the shock on Jongin’s face. 

Jongin rolls his eyes, then bats his eyelashes, wiggling his butt. “Small, but powerful, uh?” Kyungsoo laughs and kisses him, deep and wet. 

It’s harder to laugh and catch his breath when Kyungsoo gets him naked and puts him on his belly, knees raised and ass up. It’s impossible to breathe at all when Kyungsoo exhales softly onto his hole, and his body shudders, so wired and on edge. 

“Were you waiting for this?” Kyungsoo asks, putting his lips right over the crease, so that Jongin feels the movement as he speaks, goosebumps bursting all across his body. ”Is this what you wanted all along?”

Jongin might lose his mind. He remembers that first conversation, the video Kyungsoo sent him with the man getting eaten out by someone desperate and messy, he remembers wanting it so much, turned on and ashamed when he envisioned Kyungsoo, envisioned the same desperation, Kyungsoo’s face buried between his legs and licking those same noises out of him. “Please,” he whispers. 

“Please what?” Kyungsoo asks, but he has to know, he must know, he flattens his tongue right over Jongin’s hole, slow movements up and up, downward strokes of that grainy warmth where Jongin is so sensitive. He whimpers, hiding his face in a pillow; it feels strange, the slow and experimental swipes of Kyungsoo’s tongue, like he’s getting a feel for it. Jongin doesn’t know what he expected it to feel like, but it’s so—strange, weird, it feels incredible, like something new he could’ve never guessed. Part of it is how he’s presenting himself to Kyungsoo, belly down and ass up like Kyungsoo promised he’d get him, that Kyungsoo thought about this, how doubly filthy it is when he thinks of Kyungsoo saying _wanna come on your hole and then tongue it deeper into you, fuck all of it deep inside_ , that this is what he means. 

“Fuck, baby, you don’t know how much I wanted this,” Kyungsoo says when he pulls back to breathe. Kyungsoo puts his thumb to Jongin’s rim, and he moans, tightens, cold air on hot skin, and draws Kyungsoo’s thumb just that bit inside, caught on the pressure. Kyungsoo leans back in and licks around just the tip of his thumb holding Jongin open, slow dirty circles that make Jongin moan and arch his back, he wants it so much. “You’re so good,” Kyungsoo sighs. 

“Only, only for you,” Jongin slurs, out of his fucking mind with pleasure, pushing his ass back onto Kyungsoo’s face, wants that perfect mouth back on him. 

Kyungsoo pushes his thumb farther in, the ache catching Jongin off guard and drawing a high noise from his throat. “You’re my baby only, yes?”

“Your baby only,” Jongin repeats mindlessly into the pillow. “Your baby.” 

Kyungsoo removes his thumb and eats Jongin out, like, God, exactly how Jongin was waiting for, wet and faster, his full lips moving over Jongin’s hole with intent and purpose, like some dirty and impossible kiss. He uses so much spit, pulls back just to spit on Jongin’s rim, and Jongin remembers all the times he said _I like it wet, you know I’ll get you so wet for me_ , and Kyungsoo does, he does. Jongin pants into the pillow, and he’s embarrassed by how much he’s drooling, unable to keep his mouth closed, but what need is there for self-consciousness when Kyungsoo is getting him so open and sloppy, when his hole spasms and loosens like it’ll take anything, everything Kyungsoo gives it—

“Please,” he sobs, “please, I, hyu—hyung—“

Kyungsoo hums, and the vibration makes Jongin jolt and gasp out a moan. “Please,” he begs. Kyungsoo grabs his ass with his hands, spreads them and pushes his face in. _Fuck_ , Jongin thinks, _fuck_ , and when Kyungsoo starts working his tongue _inside_ , Jongin’s knees just give out and he falls flat down onto his belly, overwhelmed and overstimulated.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t even falter, just pushes Jongin’s hips back up and slaps his ass once, tongue still slowly fucking into him, thumbs stretching his rim, nose and chin pressed close in the spit slick messiness. Jongin’s thighs shake. God, what did he even do before this? What was the point? All he knows, right now, here, is the damp patch of tears and spit on his pillow, his high, hitched little whimpers and gasps, the low and needy groans from Kyungsoo as he eats Jongin out, tongue heavy and hot inside. 

Jongin twists his arm around to pull Kyungsoo’s hair. He rides back on Kyungsoo’s face, panting through the exertion, tries to get him as close as possible, and then closer still, whining, “please, please, oh, fuck, please,” whatever it is that Kyungsoo might give him. Kyungsoo is loud behind him, too, loud with the messy and slick sounds of his mouth and tongue fucking Jongin, his grunts and the intermittent sound of his hand slapping Jongin’s ass to make him tighten around his tongue. Jongin didn’t expect his sunbae to be like this, so desperate, the frenzied motions of his head while trying to push his tongue as far in as possible, make it good and perfect and dirty for Jongin. He didn’t expect from Kyungsoo to, to eat him out like, God, his face is so red, he didn’t expect him to eat him out like he’s starving for it, how frantic he is, like this is all he wanted. 

When Kyungsoo pulls back to breathe, he groans, words heavy and languid, “Jongin, sweetheart, you’re so perfect, you’re so good,” before burying his face back in Jongin’s ass. Jongin’s been on edge maybe since Kyungsoo first put his tongue down there, but hearing _you’re so perfect, you’re so good_ tilts something so sudden and visceral that he cries out, desperately riding Kyungsoo’s face and holding him close with a bruising grip of his hair as he just—comes, no finesse or warning, just Kyungsoo’s tongue inside his hole and his untouched cock spurting come all over his stomach, the comforter, a high shot on his chin. Kyungsoo keeps eating him out through it, even though it must hurt, how tight Jongin is around his tongue, and that makes it better, somehow, that Kyungsoo likes this so much he doesn’t mind the pain, fucks him until Jongin is so sensitive it hurts now, whimpering, pushing Kyungsoo’s face back weakly and collapsing onto his belly. 

Kyungsoo pants into his thigh, mouth open and loose as he tries to catch his breath. Jongin gasps for breath into the pillow, body tingling and hot everywhere. It feels like ages before he can temper his heart rate. He twists his arm back to run through Kyungsoo’s hair, murmurs, “c’mere,” and holds him close, burrows his face into Kyungsoo’s neck when he listens. 

“How was it?” Kyungsoo asks, his deep voice raspy. Jongin shakes with another aftershock. Kyungsoo trails his hand around Jongin’s waist to curve back around his butt, and his fingers dip down into the wet crease, gently rubbing over Jongin’s hole. Jongin moans, unsure if he wants to move into or away from it. Kyungsoo is only in briefs now, and the hot press of his erection on Jongin’s thigh is mesmerizing. He wants that. 

“S’good,” Jongin sighs, “so good, sunbaenim.” He wriggles his bum. “You gonna fuck it now?”

“Uh,” Kyungsoo says, caught off guard. “You—want? Me to… do that?” The moments Kyungsoo chooses restraint are hilarious. As if he wasn’t just eating Jongin’s ass like a dying man. Jongin hums and arches his ass into Kyungsoo’s palm. “Aren’t you sore?”

Jongin pulls his bottom lip into his mouth. “Do you not want me to be good for you, hyung?” he asks in his softest voice, looking up at Kyungsoo under his eyelashes. 

Kyungsoo groans and pushes him back onto his stomach, aligning himself over Jongin’s body and reaching for the lube. “Needy little brat.”

-

Jongin feels like an animal. He feels unhinged.

“Jongin,” Sehun says, slapping his shoulder, “you’ve been limping for a week.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jongin grumbles, leaning against the kitchen wall and downing a cup of vodka with pineapple juice in one go. They’re back at Baekhyun’s place, a party for Yixing’s return even though he came back two weeks ago, and the _Welcome Back, Yixing!_ banner on the wall now just has _Yixing!_ so Minseok keeps drunkenly yelling, “happy Yixing!” to everyone. Maybe Jongin would have a good Yixing day if Kyungsoo wasn’t an asshole. 

“Why shouldn’t we remind you?” Chanyeol asks, leaning on Sehun. “Is it not good? Tell me quickly, I need ammo against Kyungsoo.”

“Kyungsoo won’t…” Jongin’s face gets red. He pours another cup of vodka and pineapple. “He vetoed sex because of it.” He pours more pineapple juice. He doesn’t want to get drunk tonight. 

“Wait. Are you mad?” Sehun asks.

“I’m not mad, I just think he’s being ridiculous.” He decides to grab a water bottle instead. “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh my God,” Chanyeol says, gleeful, “you’re such a pillow princess.”

“Yah!” Jongin protests.

Sehun laughs in disbelief. “Nini, you’re mad that he won’t fuck you because you’re sore and limping. Repeat that to yourself and tell me how it sounds out loud.”

“I can take care of myself,” he repeats. “It’s not like—I mean, it’s good for both of us, where’s the harm in that?”

Seriously unhinged. When Kyungsoo fucked him for the first time last week after eating him out, Jongin thought _this is the climax of my life_ ; he understood with stunning clarity why Sehun always waxes poetic about Junmyeon’s dick, except that Kyungsoo is bigger, so Jongin is beyond lucky. He thought nothing would pass the wetness of Kyungsoo fucking his come into him, the stuttered breath when Kyungsoo pushed deep inside and filled him up past full, but then later that night, after Kyungsoo gave up on dinner and brought him plain white rice in bed with last week’s beef stolen from Chanyeol, Kyungsoo fucked him again, Jongin bent over the bed with Kyungsoo fucking him from behind so hard his teeth rattled and the pillows fell off. Jongin can’t think about anything else. He begged Kyungsoo to come over every night this week, took the bus to Kyungsoo’s place at nine PM three nights ago because he couldn’t sleep, so hard and empty he almost cried. 

Maybe he has a problem. It’s like he’s a teenager again, some needy desperate thing that just lost their virginity and only thinks about sex, about fucking someone warm and wet. Except he’s on the other end of it now, and he just wants to be warm and wet for Kyungsoo, wants him inside all the time. 

When Kyungsoo came over two days ago, Jongin was stupid enough to walk in front of him before getting fucked, and Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed, worry deepset. “You’re limping. I knew you had to be sore, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked more than once.”

“I’m fine,” Jongin assured him, crawling back onto the bed and over his body. 

“I think we should stop for a few days,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ll buy you Vick’s tomorrow to put on your back, maybe a patch for your butt.”

“What,” Jongin said blankly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kyungsoo said, eyes still wide. 

“I like the hurt!” Jongin complained, but fuck, that wasn’t the right thing, “what I mean is that it’s, it’s barely there, it’s just like a gym sore.”

“Is that why you haven’t been to the gym?” Kyungsoo asked, “because if hurts this much?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jongin said. Kyungsoo kissed his temple and rearranged him for nonsexual cuddles. 

Even now, two days later, Jongin still can’t believe Kyungsoo was serious. They hung out yesterday after classes, but just—did homework. Jongin came very close to convincing Kyungsoo to finger him, maybe put just the tip inside, but then some dumbass student walked by and Kyungsoo was all “we’re in the library,” as if that stopped them last week. 

“How did we not expect this?” Chanyeol asks, still grinning. “Of course you’re a bratty bottom. What else would you be?”

“Fuck you,” Jongin tells him. 

Someone back hugs him, familiar light citrusy cologne. “You’re not still mad.”

“Fuck you, too,” Jongin says. He leans back into Kyungsoo’s touch. 

Kyungsoo huffs out a laugh. “You’re not drinking tonight?”

Jongin twists his water bottle. “No, I have to do a stupid review, so I actually have to read most of the book tomorrow. I hate that. You?” 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, hands around Jongin’s waist. “Baekhyun and Minseok are trashed, gonna help Yixing make sure they don’t drown in tequila.”

“You’re very sweet to people who aren’t me,” Jongin says. Kyungsoo laughs again. 

“Ugh,” Sehun grimaces, the biggest hypocrite, “I hate public displays of affection. Go back to being straight.”

“Jongin-ah likes being fucked too much, he could never,” Chanyeol says. “Blink twice if he’s a pillow princess.”

“Stop gendering sexual positions,” Jongin frowns. 

“To be fair, pillow princess is a gender neutral term for gay people,” Sehun says. “I could never call Seulgi a pillow princess even though she’s a bottom. Baekhyun is a bottom learning vers but he’s not a pillow princess.”

“It’s more a state of being than an identity,” Chanyeol nods. “Kyungsoo-ah, it’s not too late to blink twice.”

“Neither of you make sense,” Jongin says, and leads a laughing Kyungsoo out of the kitchen. 

He convinces Kyungsoo to dance with him, easy movements in the corner to Yixing’s low sensuous mix, Kyungsoo’s chin on his shoulder, one hand at his hip and the other on his belly while Jongin grinds his hips back, bum snug on Kyungsoo’s crotch. 

“You’re a great dancer,” Kyungsoo says into his ear. 

“Don’t praise me if you’re not gonna fuck me,” Jongin warns. 

Kyungsoo rubs the hand on his stomach. “But I love how your hips move.” Jongin presses closer, and feels the growing swell of Kyungsoo’s cock against his ass, and he bites his bottom lip. God, he wants that. “It’s even better when you ride me.”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says. Kyungsoo kisses the nape of his neck, where he knows Jongin is sensitive. “What are you doing?”

“Touching my baby,” he says, sucking a mark onto Jongin’s neck. He’s harder now, hips grinding forward with every low synth of the beat. Kyungsoo is so easy for him. “Miss fucking you.” 

It’s gratifying to know he’s not alone in this. “Whose fault is that?”

Kyungsoo huffs. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want you to listen to me when I say I’m fine,” Jongin says. He turns around in Kyungsoo’s arms, tilts his neck to the side so that Kyungsoo can keep marking him. “Sunbaenim.”

“Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo murmurs into his neck, biting down too hard and then licking it in consolation when Jongin whimpers. 

“We could… I wanna suck you off.” Kyungsoo inhales sharply. Jongin tries not to smirk, and grinds forward onto Kyungsoo’s dick, pleased when Kyungsoo drops his hands to grope his ass. “You could finger me,” he whispers into Kyungsoo’s ear, biting his earlobe softly, that whine he knows Kyungsoo loves. “Just two fingers, please?”

“Two fingers won’t hurt, right,” Kyungsoo says, big hands tight on Jongin’s ass. Jongin hums in agreement, and barely bites back his grin when Kyungsoo grabs his hands and leads him away, to the bathroom farthest away from the noise of the party. 

Kyungsoo was more wired than he let on the last few days. In the bathroom, he shoves Jongin against the door and starts kissing him, wild and desperate and wet, before he even finishes locking it. 

“Oh, you’re eager,” Jongin laughs into the kiss, grabbing Kyungsoo’s ass to pull him in closer. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” says Kyungsoo, leaning up on his toes to run his hands through Jongin’s hair. “Just—two fingers, just two, did you shower?” Jongin nods, and Kyungsoo turns him around to face the door in the same breath, dropping to his knees and pulling Jongin’s jeans and briefs down at once. 

Jongin barely has time to moan, “oh my God,” before Kyungsoo’s tongue is on his rim, licking him out with a hunger that makes Jongin cry out, loud even over the noise of the party. 

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo moans. Jongin hears a cabinet bang, the click of a cap, but he loses focus with Kyungsoo’s tongue over his hole, back in close as he grips Jongin’s cheeks apart and licks up with long strokes, the sharp flick of his tongue as he fucks it inside. God, Kyungsoo eats him out so well it almost makes Jongin jealous, how much practice he must have. Hard to care when he reaps the benefits now. Kyungsoo works a finger into Jongin’s hole while a dirty trap beat reverberates through the house, and Jongin thinks this is otherworldly, he must be somewhere beyond. Somehow, the finger is slick, something thick like jelly lube or vaseline, and that’s the extent of Jongin’s musing, nothing but white static when Kyungsoo fucks two fingers into him, stretches him and presses his tongue right between, the sleek sounds of spit and and lubricant opening Jongin up. 

“Sunbae,” Jongin whines, forearms braced against the door, face hidden between them, “a third, please, three, I want it so bad—“ Kyungsoo grunts, but he listens, replaces his tongue with a third thick finger and pants against Jongin’s ass. 

“Wish I was in you,” Kyungsoo mutters, scissoring his fingers. 

“You can,” Jongin promises, arching his ass further up, “really, you can.” Kyungsoo says nothing. “Maybe just… the tip?”

Kyungsoo huffs out a laugh. “You’re the worst. Just the tip is never just the tip.”

“Well,” Jongin starts, lips quirking up. “You’re the one making me beg for it.”

Kyungsoo curls his fingers up, and Jongin can only imagine his smugness when he hits Jongin’s prostate and he keens, going high on his toes for a moment in contrast to the pleasure. “It really doesn’t hurt?”

“Just like a gym sore,” Jongin assures. “I, I like it, Kyungsoo-ah, that you, uh, stretch me out that much, that,” he flushes, afraid his next words will sound like lines from a bad porno.

“That?” Kyungsoo presses. 

“That you’re big enough to make me sore,” he finishes in a single breath. 

Kyungsoo laughs again. “I don’t need an ego, but thank you, I suppose.” He stands, careful when he removes his fingers from Jongin, patting his bum when he whimpers from the loss. Jongin hears the scratch of a zipper, the rustle of clothing shoved down. His breathing picks up, pulse erratic, when Kyungsoo presses the fat head of his cock against the rim, wet with precome and slippery on Jongin’s stretched hole. “You sure your hole can take my cock, baby?”

Jongin whines, nodding. Kyungsoo pushes forward, but he’s not holding himself and Jongin is too wet for him, too tight, and it just catches at the rim before sliding away. “I think it might be too tight,” Kyungsoo murmurs, “I’ll hurt you.” 

Kyungsoo is the worst tease. He is Jongin’s perfect match.

Jongin bends his hips out and tightens, smiling into his elbow when Kyungsoo swears softly and his cock twitches, slapping Jongin’s hole. “But I want it, Kyungsoo sunbaenim,” he says, a soft innocence in his voice that they both know he never had. “Want you to fill me up with your big cock, come inside until I’m dripping and sloppy with it.”

Kyungsoo breathes heavily, no smart reply this time as he enters Jongin, pressing his dick in one long thrust. _God_ , Jongin missed this, why was Kyungsoo stupid enough to think either of them could go a day without it, let alone three. Nothing is better than this, the way Kyungsoo builds tempo with purpose, his hands tight around Jongin’s hips, their bodies aligned so tight, the cotton of their t-shirts sticking to sweat as Kyungsoo pants into his shoulder. 

“Missed this,” Jongin moans, tightening around Kyungsoo’s cock and relishing in the low grunts he gets, “want it all the time.” Outside, a glass breaks, and too many people cheer for it. 

“Baby,” Kyungsoo sighs, “baby, sweetheart,” snapping his hips forward in a hard, nasty grind; he goes so deep every time that Jongin can’t help grunting with the pleasure, overwhelmed by this endless, perfect ache. “I’m gonna come too soon.”

Someone knocks. Kyungsoo freezes, and Jongin almost has a heart attack. “Someone’s in here,” Kyungsoo says, hand flexing on Jongin's waist. 

“I gotta pee,” someone complains. 

“Congratulations, but I’m in here,” Kyungsoo says, annoyed. He’s so funny. They’re the ones fucking in a bathroom at a packed party, but _he’s_ annoyed. “Come back in ten minutes.” And he starts moving again, fucking in with a sharp snap that forces a grunt from Jongin’s throat. The person behind the door grumbles, but footsteps move away. 

“Holy fuck,” Jongin says. He wants to laugh in disbelief and embarrassment, but he doesn’t get a chance, not when Kyungsoo is back at full speed, rutting in at breakneck speed. God, this is it, this is everything, nothing feels better than this, being held open and fucked raw by Kyungsoo, the heavy weight of him forcing a place inside Jongin’s body for himself, always for him. Jongin can’t stop moaning, high and needy in his throat, and is he too loud, he must be, Kyungsoo slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle his sounds, and the reminder, again, that they’re not just at home, that people exist and dance and hear on the other side of the door while Jongin gets fucked bare and wet by Kyungsoo—

“Ah, God, fuck, ah,” Jongin keens into Kyungsoo’s palm. Kyungsoo rose up on his toes, and the change fucks him even deeper, changes the angle in the most devastating way, so that the blunt head of his cock hits Jongin’s prostate dead center, ramming broken noises out from him, so overcome by all of it. He wants to see, he wants—“record it, wanna see, lemme see,” he whines. 

“Oh my God,” says Kyungsoo. “Really? Do you,” but he doesn’t finish, Jongin repeating, “I want to see,” and scratching at the door with his sparked and twitchy hands. Everywhere feels too much. “Fuck, okay, where’s,” and then Kyungsoo leans back just a little, and when Jongin looks over his shoulder, his phone is out and poised on where he slides in and out of Jongin’s hole with deep thrusts.

Jongin wants to see. He imagines watching this later, tomorrow, the next day and the next, seeing for himself what it looks like when Kyungsoo spreads his ass, stretches his hole with the press of his fat dick until Jongin literally can’t walk right, the slap of his balls on Jongin’s ass, the reddening of his tan skin with how hard Kyungsoo moves in and in and in. Does Kyungsoo’s phone catch the noise they make, the damp sounds of Kyungsoo fucking precome into his already wet body, always better for him, always tight for him, the way Kyungsoo moans right now, fingers digging into Jongin’s jaw as he holds him in place and frantically ruts inside, Jongin’s low mumblings and eager whimpers? Does it hold a thread to the real thing? 

“Touch yourself,” Kyungsoo demands, “make yourself come, please, you’re so gorgeous, want you to.” Jongin palms his dick, leaking at the slit and so hard, so close. “Nini, baby, I’m gonna come.” Kyungsoo calling him Nini makes something warm and gratifying settle in his gut. Kyungsoo calls him baby a lot, but Nini is what his friends use, and it feels good, great, this reminder that Kyungsoo is now more than just a complicated hookup. He likes that. He really likes it. 

“Fill me up,” Jongin pleads begins Kyungsoo’s palm, fucking back in messy motions. “Love when you come inside, please, sunbae, fill me up.” He is delirious with want. He is outside of himself, and all he ever needs is Kyungsoo inside. His thoughts embarrass him sometimes. 

“Don’t think I’ll ever watch anything other than this video,” Kyungsoo tells him, “can’t wait for you to see how well your hole takes me in, how you tighten around it, how wet you get when I come in you, fuck, fuck, Jongin, oh my _God_ ,” and then he’s coming, hips pressed close as he releases too much, just enough, into Jongin, Jongin tightening around him to get all he can, rubbing circles around the slit of his cock, biting Kyungsoo’s palm to stifle a cry when he comes, body and sense and self reduced to the point where he and Kyungsoo connect. Fuck.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo sighs, panting into Jongin’s back. Jongin shakes with aftershocks, knees wobbly and hole sore where it still stretches around Kyungsoo. “Jongin-ah, are you okay?”Jongin makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

Again, someone pounds on the door. “I need to use the fucking bathroom!”

Jongin groans and bangs his head on the door. Behind him, Kyungsoo laughs softly.

-

“I will Venmo you my cleaning bill,” Yixing tells Kyungsoo later that night, most of the guests gone and only Kyungsoo and Jongin’s friends left, sprawled across the living room. Kyungsoo has control of the playlist now, and he put on Frank Ocean half an hour ago, and refuses to switch to anything new. _Nights_ croons from the stereo, Baekhyun sings along drunkenly on Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin is—happy. 

“Why would you do that?” Kyungsoo asks. He slouches half on Jongin’s lap, fiddling on his phone and guiding Baekhyun through two bottles of water. 

“Don’t play coy,” Junmyeon frowns. “You defiled my kid.”

“In the bathroom,” Minseok reminds them.

“In the _bathroom_ ,” Junmyeon says, scandalized. 

“You used my Vaseline as lube!” Minseok tells them, “how can I moisturize my lips if it now tastes like ass?”

“But you regularly taste ass,” Jongdae offers. In Jongin’s ear, Baekhyun sings, _all my night, been ready from you all my night, been waiting on you all my night_ while Jongin draws shapes to the beat on Kyungsoo’s arm. 

“And I bet Jongin’s ass tastes, like. god tier,” Chanyeol sighs, words blurring over each other from too many whiskey gingers. Junmyeon shoves a water bottle into his hand and taps his wrist until Chanyeol chugs it. 

“Tread carefully,” Kyungsoo says. His flappy bird dies on screen.

“Aw,” Yixing croons, “he doesn’t want us talking about his baby. I think it’s cute.” Jongin hides a smile. “I will still send the cleaning bill.” 

“Thank God Kyungsoo found God and isn’t straight anymore,” Chanyeol says, “it was giving me hives, knowing straight people.”

The song changes. Baekhyun moans, “I’ll be honest! I wasn’t devastated!”

Kyungsoo murmurs, “but you could’ve held my hand through this, baby,” voice soft with his English accent. 

“Sorry to say I exist,” says Jongdae.

“It is pretty homophobic of you, sunbae,” Sehun agrees. 

Minseok sighs, munching on the crackers Yixing put out to stuff carbs into the drunkest amongst them. “If I must, I volunteer to trigger your gay awakening. I will carry the burden.”

Jongdae throws a pillow at him, and Sehun cackles in the corner, curled on the fuzzy black rug with Junmyeon. “I think I’ll survive, thanks.”

“But will I?” Chanyeol asks.

“His hives are breaking out right now,” says Junmyeon. 

“I’m so itchy,’ Chanyeol moans. “Please, Jongdae-ah, only you can save me! Quick, suck Minseok’s dick!”’

“If you know the lyrics to any Frank Ocean song, you’re gay,” Baekhyun offers as the song transitions again, the first thing he hasn’t sung in twenty minutes. 

From the speakers, _I thought that I was dreaming, when you said you loved me_. Kyungsoo leans back into him, presses a kiss to his cheek and murmurs the lyrics, his soft lips brushing over Jongin’s skin. Jongin can’t help adding, “damn, I guess I should’ve known,” and beams when Kyungsoo laughs, loud and so happy. Now, here, all of it is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've never stanned a straight person in my life but i had to sacrifice jongdae bc he is straight adjacent. please forgive me.

**Author's Note:**

> me and chanyeol this entire fic: anybody heard of bisexuality? please leave prompts on tumblr, part 2 coming wednesday.


End file.
